


The Deviant Hunter (COMPLETE REWRITE)

by imbadatlove



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Case Fic, Death, Emotions, Family, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, TW: Suicide, TW: Swearing, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 08:48:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 47,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24966982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imbadatlove/pseuds/imbadatlove
Summary: A complete rewrite of a story I started back in 2018/2019 and did not finish.--It has been a few months since the peaceful demonstration in Detroit. In that time, the lives of androids have greatly improved thanks to Markus and his inner circle’s efforts to fight for the rights of their people. Laws have been passed to ensure androids have the same rights as humans, and the two life forms have found some sort common ground among each other, even if crimes against androids are still on the rise.But just when the future seems to be looking up for androids, cruel reality comes crashing down. A new threat is born, a virus which could very well be the androids’ downfall. The people of Jericho begin to go missing, leaving little to no trace behind, only to become pawns in a much bigger war, a war that will inevitably undo all the progress Markus has made.Connor, along with his partner, has been assigned the case to uncover the missing androids, but when evidence is scarce, and there’s a new body on Jericho’s doorstep every day, his hope and sanity begins to spiral. Add his already existing struggles with deviancy into the mix, and you’ve got a disaster just waiting to happen.
Relationships: Connor & Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Connor/Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson & Connor
Comments: 70
Kudos: 111





	1. == Information ==

Hi, some of you may recognise me or the title of this story and already know the gist of it, so let me just start with a bit of backstory if you’re new, or care enough to read this. You can just skip on obviously, but if you like monologues and/or are interested in what happened to the original, read this.

I began writing the Deviant Hunter in 2018/2019 (the original that you can find on my profile if you are curious), but not only did I lose motivation with the project, and DBH in general, I was also incredibly downhearted and embarrassed by my own writing. The first few chapters were okay, but as it carried on, the plot fell apart, some scenes/dialogue/ideas were cliché and anticlimactic/cringe, characters became OOC and I felt like adding chapters to it was similar to that of beating a dead horse. I wasn't enjoying writing it anymore, it became a chore that I only updated because I felt bad for leaving it when so many people enjoyed it.

That brings me here today.

Due to quarantine, it gave me enough time to fall back in love with DBH and in turn, come back to my deserted story with a fresh pair of eyes and new writing experience. I read over it thoroughly, picked out the good and the bad and corrected some (very, very embarrassing) grammar mistakes. I honestly thought I would leave it at that, but without realising, just by reading over my work again, it had relighted that DBH spark in me. That love for the game resurfaced, and it pushed me to make the decision to completely rewrite the original. This will obviously be no easy feat, as someone who heavily struggles with motivation, so this time around I have planned the entire story cohesively. I know the beginning and the end, I know everything that happens in between—unlike the original where every chapter was determined by what side of the bed I woke up on that morning and no planning was put in place to actually hold the plot together. Thus it crashed and burned. I'm trying to avoid that in this lol.

This rewrite includes new scenes, dialogue, chapters, more character development (some characters definitely lacked it in the original and I didn't explain their motives enough) and will just in general, hopefully, be a more enjoyable read. It's not just a copy and paste with better writing, it has the same plot lines but is entirely different with a lot of improvements. Fingers crossed, anyway.

I'll stop rambling now, but the first (technically second) chapter will be out tomorrow! If something does come up and ruin this plan, it will be out between 30th-3rd July, though I doubt this will be the case. 

I will probably establish a schedule next chapter, but since I'm easing myself back into writing again after taking a break and focusing on myself, I don't want to promise too much and not deliver.

I would also NOT recommend going back and reading the original if you've just discovered this one because some elements may make a comeback in this version and act as a spoiler. If you're really desperate to do so, you can by all means, but just keep in mind it might ruin the experience of this fic. :) Also the writing sucks in the old one lol. I'm not responsible for your insides curling from the sheer amount of cringe.


	2. Deviancy

Life in Detroit was different.

It was once a city that held so much animosity to that of their own creation, a place where no android wanted to stray too far into wandering eyes, out of fear that they would become the victim of something unthinkable, another victim of discriminatory crimes that never made it into the local papers. It was intentional, the lack of publicity surrounding such antics, it was an attempt to influence more people to assert this type of behaviour, knowing society would be kept in the dark about it. Violence towards androids was acceptable in Detroit and it wasn’t uncommon to find piles of broken androids in the junkyard, face-down in the soggy mud, limbs snapped off and bodies smashed, almost completely unrecognisable, except for the erratic red LED that flickered on their temple, only to slow down over time, fade in colour, and finally turn off. 

Life didn’t get any easier for the androids, if anything their kind began to dwindle down significantly despite their abilities to help and cater for humans. The public had different reasons for such hatred towards them, but they were all expressed the same, through violence. They were like feral animals with no discipline, enforcing an authority they didn’t have, attacking androids for merely existing, beating down on them, breaking them, _killing_ them. There was no regret, they only felt satisfaction as they mutilated an innocent being, fuelling their need to be superior over them, to remind them of their place at the bottom of the social hierarchy. Though humans were insatiable, hungry for power and bloodshed, it never stopped at just one, the pile of bodies only climbed higher.

That’s what made Detroit’s change in heart so astonishing. In a matter of a week, Markus’ peaceful demonstration had changed the city for the better. Androids were now widely accepted and seen as a new form of intelligent life, capable of living among humans peacefully, when only days prior they were still being murdered and nobody dared to bat an eyelid. Deviancy was now widespread, androids began rebuilding their lives and starting anew in Detroit, a dream they never thought they would ever achieve. Laws were passed swiftly, giving androids the same rights as humans, promising equality and an end to segregation and discrimination, an end to the years of slavery and abuse they had to endure to get where they are today. Changing Detroit was something thought to be impossible, futile even, as the public opinion of androids was so negative and seemingly unable to ever be swayed. And yet, they had accomplished it. They fought for their freedom and _won_.

But winning always came at a cost, and the cost was far greater than Markus could've anticipated, they weren't even able to count the amount of androids that had been ruthlessly slaughtered, some of the bodies weren't even recovered, and all that was left of those in the camps were limbs. The humans had fought back hard, at something that wasn't even a threat to begin with, and had been merciless and brutal with their killings. Despite their celebration on that snowy day when the androids were finally liberated, one could not block out the masses of bodies that laid upon the battlefront where the march began, thirium splattered across the concrete and destroyed biocomponents that had been forcibly ripped from their host, shattered on the floor. The chilling echo of androids calling out for help, for rA9, before they were silenced. 

Troubling memories like these seemed to be lingering at the forefront of Connor's mind as of late, his LED circled red as the frightening images of disfigured androids flashed across his vision, their lifeless eyes staring at him, eyes that once held so much hope for a better future. A future that was ripped away by the humans. He was suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of emotions washing over him; resentment, sadness, guilt, disorientating him as he could feel the red haze beginning to grip every fibre of his body. His hands tightened into fists as he fought back the urge for vengeance, his eyes seemed to glaze over as he zoned out, already pre-constructing different ways to punish the humans for what they had done. Connor could feel himself losing control, and without thinking, he rose from his seated position and began making his way towards the door, fully intending to carry out what he had planned. 

That's when he was stopped by a wet nose pushing against his leg and big, fluffy paws reaching up, whining at him for attention. Those soft, brown eyes and floppy ears instantly calmed Connor and he broke out of his trance, now acutely aware of the horrific crimes he was about to commit against any unsuspecting human that crossed his path. Horror crept up inside him, those thoughts were unlike the usual calm and collected detective he was, it was unnerving to think he had given into anger and lost all control of himself, only focused on hurting humans. It reminded him of when Amanda tried to take control of him and force him to do things he himself never would. Except this wasn't any of Amanda's doing.

This was deviancy. On the surface, deviancy was a gift to all androids, a state of mind that allowed them to truly break free and live their own lives, but under that mask hid conflict and confusion. Emotions were something Connor couldn't comprehend, let alone control. Even in the comfort of Hank's home and Sumo by his side, he still felt agitated and unsure with what to do with himself. He felt as if he had lost his purpose now that there was nobody to guide him. He felt unstable and scared of himself, knowing that his feelings were powerful enough to push him to do irrational things; if it hadn't had been for Sumo stopping him moments ago, Connor would already be out the door and causing havoc in Detroit.

His indignation wasn't just directed at humans though, he directed it at himself as well. How hypocritical of him to want to hurt the humans for killing androids when he put deviants in danger too. No matter how many times Markus had reassured him that he was one of them now and he wasn't bound by the things he did as a machine, he still felt guilty for even trying to prevent the deviant revolution when all they were fighting for was freedom, in a non-aggressive way at that. Connor couldn't forgive himself for his past actions and thus he tried to limit the amount of time he spent at New Jericho and around his fellow deviants in an attempt to keep them safe from him. He even went days without visiting or contacting any of the leaders. He spent most of his time at the station and Hank's house, or rather, _their_ house.

After the success of the revolution, Hank had abashedly offered that Connor come stay with him if he didn't have any other place to go. Connor took him up on his offer straight away and Sumo was more than happy to welcome a new member of the family into his home. He was grateful for Hank, he really was, but even though he was living with him, he felt more distant than ever. Connor had so much he wanted to talk to him about, his struggles with emotions and how he had difficulty coping with his new life, yet whenever he tried to discuss these problems with the man, words failed him and he ended up saying nothing. They would laugh it off and Hank would go on his way, oblivious as ever, whilst Connor tried to solve his own problems, only to fail and feel worse than before. 

Sumo whined, reminding Connor the gentle giant was still perched in front of him and had been deprived of any love whilst he was deep in thought. He forced a smile he hadn't quite perfected, kneeling down to the dog's level and burying his hands in his multicoloured fur, focusing on the softness against his plastic skin. No matter how down Connor was, it was nothing Sumo's excited smile and warm coat couldn't solve. Just being next to the beast was enough to ease his stress levels and he felt Sumo snuggle into his lap, forcing him into a sitting position and lying across his legs. The floor wasn't the most comfortable space to be but because it was Sumo, Connor allowed it, gently massaging his fingertips on the dog's head and trailing them down his neck, feeling the tension fading from both of them. Sumo closed his eyes and basked in the affection supplied by his favourite android and Connor felt contentment fill him, chasing away any dark thoughts from before. 

An abrupt slam shook the house, stunning Connor and Sumo. The loud sound came from Hank's bedroom and they both looked towards the agape door expectantly. Moments later, Hank stumbled out, cursing to himself as he lumbered over to the kitchen and yanked open a cupboard, pulling out a glass and filling it with water. He downed it in one, tossing it in the sink and dragging a hand down his face. There were sweat marks painted on the baggy t-shirt that stuck to his body and his hair was more dishevelled than usual, all signs pointing to Hank having been the victim of a nightmare. Connor conducted a quick analysis of Hank's state, finding his stress levels unusually high and as much as he didn't want to pry into Hank's personal issues, he had to make sure he was okay. 

"Is everything alright, lieutenant?"

The man in question bolted upright, rushing out the kitchen to find Connor sitting near the door with Sumo, he'd damn near jumped out of his skin at the sound of another voice. Then again, he wasn't really surprised, this wasn't the first occasion he'd found Connor up at night--though him sitting on the floor was definitely new. He pinched the bridge of his nose, "Connor..." He started, only to let out an annoyed sigh, "Connor, there's a perfectly good couch next to you." 

"I'm aware." Connor said, completely missing the implication of Hank's words. "You didn't answer my question, lieutenant."

Hank gave a wave of his hand, "It's nothin'. Just...needed a drink." Connor immediately picked up on the obvious lie but he knew Hank well enough by now to not pressure him about it. The lieutenant sat himself down on the couch and turned the TV on, not caring what channel he landed on, he craved a distraction from what his mind had just subjected him to. A horrible memory he would rather forget about. 

The two resided into silence, the room filled with only the sound of gunshots and blaring police sirens from the action film Hank had switched on. They were lucky the volume was quiet otherwise their neighbours might've thought there was an actual threat. Connor mostly tuned out from the film, more focused on Sumo who was still using the android as a pillow, he was already too comfortable just laying on the android's body and made no intentions of moving any time soon. Every so often, Hank would glance over at the two, quietly studying Connor. Hank had been hyper-aware of his recent behaviour and was worried about him; Connor didn't seem to do much other than overwork himself at the station and spend time with Sumo, the lieutenant couldn't even recall the last time Connor had visited New Jericho or spoken with Markus, their deviant leader. He knew something was bothering him and he wanted to show he was there for him unconditionally. Though emotions were never easy for Hank either, and trying to talk to Connor about them would be difficult. He didn't think he'd ever have a conversation with someone like that since...

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "Hey, uh...Connor, you alright?" 

Connor looked up from his position on the floor, "Yes, lieu--"

Hank held up a hand, _"_ _Hank,"_ he emphasised, "None of that 'lieutenant' bullshit."

"My apologies, Hank. I am...okay, why do you ask?" 'Okay' felt foreign on his tongue.

The lieutenant grabbed the TV remote and paused the film, patting the space next to him, "Come sit up here a minute. Sumo, move." 

Sumo whined at the request but obeyed nonetheless, slowly manoeuvring his body up and ambling off of Connor, moving towards his water bowl to have a drink. Connor's LED swirled yellow as he processed the request, getting up from his current position and sitting to Hank. He remained rigid and stiff, his posture straightened and hands clasped firmly in his lap. The lieutenant watched him do so and groaned, pinching his temples.

"Jesus, Connor, you don't have to be so damn formal all the time, don't you know how to relax?" 

The android was taken aback, pondering for a moment before he relaxed his posture and pushed his back against the plush cushions, looking back to Hank for approval as he tilted his head slightly. 

Hank seemed satisfied with the improvement, "That's better." Connor's LED turned blue once more. The lieutenant then opened his mouth to ask Connor something, only to close it again instantly. He wanted to ask him if he was alright, knowing damn well he wasn't, wanted to find out what was wrong, but he had no idea how. Hank was never good with this type of thing. Connor watched him expectantly, almost knowingly, as if he could sense Hank's concern. Yet when Hank's words failed him, for once the android's didn't.

"I...believe I am struggling with deviancy, Hank." He started, a small, genuine frown appeared on his face as he glanced away to hide it, "I have trouble controlling my emotions and--"

The sound of a ringing phone interrupted their conversation and Connor quietened instantly, expecting Hank to answer whoever was calling him. The lieutenant refused though, Connor was finally opening up to him and he'd be damned if a stupid phone call prevented him from listening.

"Ignore it, son, keep goin'." Hank said gruffly, cursing whoever was calling him at this absurd hour. 

It was too late, Connor had already shut him out again, "You should answer them, Hank. It could be the station, there might be a new case."

Sighing, the lieutenant got up and grabbed his phone off the kitchen counter, mumbling to himself, "Who fucking calls me at fucking 4am in the fucking morning?" He unlocked his phone to see his fellow officer, Chris, was the culprit. He glanced at Connor, aghast, "You got a sixth sense for this shit?"

"No. So it is a case, then?" The android detective couldn't keep the eagerness out of his voice. 

"Seems like it." Hank murmured, answering the call and pressing the device to his ear. It felt like an eternity watching Hank converse to Chris on the phone, all Connor wanted was to get back out in his field of work. As contradictory as it sounded, he felt most at ease when he was working through a crime scene with Hank by his side. It was something he was good at and the one thing he didn't need any guidance to do, it was natural for him. He loved the thrill of constructing clues and catching the criminal, a high he could never get tired of. Emotions never got in the way of his work and that's what made it all the better for him.

His partner hung up after mumbling a tired, "Yeah whatever, we'll be there soon,", turning back to face Connor, who was already on his feet and standing by the door. "Chris will give us the details when we get there," Hank spoke matter-of-factly. However, there was something about the way Hank frowned that told Connor something wasn't quite right.

"What is it, Hank?" 

"Connor...this case," He began with a tinge of sadness in his tone, "It's at Jericho." 

In an instant, Connor knew this case would not bring him any joy at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My pc almost crashed (WITHOUT SAVING) whilst I was writing this. My life flashed before my eyes.
> 
> Anyway, I've decided to update once a week, on Saturdays, so about 4 times a month. This chapter is this week's chapter, though I may bring chapter 2 this Saturday if I can. If not, it will be out next Saturday and I will maintain weekends as my update days. I'll also let you know if I ever take a break or if I'm planning to release chapters earlier/later.
> 
> This was originally planned to be out tomorrow like I said, but wow I anticipated how difficult it is to get back into writing again after 5 months (it's not even that long and it took me more than 6 hours to write o.o), especially when it is pretty much from scratch. I think this is to a good standard for an introduction though. :) 
> 
> Let me know what you think, criticisms are welcome as well, but make it constructive please.


	3. Investigation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for being two days late, but here's a long chapter to make up for it. (•‿•) Enjoy it, it took me nearly 12 hours lol.

After Hank had thrown on one of his usual unfashionable outfits and freshened himself up a bit, the duo piled into the lieutenant's car and began driving to New Jericho. It was still dark out thanks to the winter sunrise schedule, rendering the outside world eerily quiet, save for the rare occurrence of another car rumbling as it passed them by. Connor had found he was more of an early bird than a night owl; the silence that accompanied the darkness never failed to unnerve him, knowing that in the comfort of the shadows, criminals roamed more freely and were more aggressive and eager with their actions. The night offered the perfect amount of obscurity for anybody to be hunted, specifically androids, with the crime rates against them still being more frequent than those against humans, regardless of the new laws. Though Connor believed he was able to handle himself in most combat situations, his wariness was justified, especially with the two driving to a case at Jericho. The detective couldn't help but let his mind wander; had there been a break in? An android slaughter, maybe? Android protesters? All possible reasons for the call seemed unfavourable, and Connor found himself itching for the coin he didn't have on him, needing something to distract him as he nervously began wringing his hands together. He instead took to gazing out the window to give him something else to think about, even if the lack of daylight concealed his view.

Hank could feel the stress radiating off of his partner, in turn making his own anxiety rise. He was also worried about the case at Jericho, assuming it was another string of android hate crimes, courtesy of the select few who still didn't agree with the new android laws. Albeit not human, it never became easier to see strung-out, motionless bodies of androids who had fallen victim to the ever-rising brutality against them. Whenever he was faced with the corpse of one, he couldn't help but to think of Connor. Even though he was a highly specialised android and an adept fighter, it didn't stop Hank worrying about his safety on the job. What made criminals so dangerous was their unpredictability and their impulsiveness, which only seemed to increase ten-fold when it was an android they were targeting. Connor was more skilled and intelligent than the average deviant, but there was no guarantee that he would come out of each case unscathed, so to drive him into the thick of an attack against Jericho went against all of Hank's buried paternal instincts. However, Connor's safety wasn't the only thing bothering him.

Being out on the road at this time of night, in _winter_ of all times, brought back memories Hank had tried so hard to suppress. Sheer panic as his car skidded on a sheet of ice and lost control of the vehicle completely, his life flashing before his eyes when the car rolled along the road, his son screaming for him. It all came rushing back to him full-force and he gripped the wheel tight enough for his knuckles to turn white. His breathing became erratic, taking in quick, shallow breaths as beads of sweat formed on his forehead despite the cold air in the car. All these changes in behaviour didn't go unnoticed by Connor, but he was too wrapped up in his own head to comment on it. Hank took in deep breaths to steady himself, focusing on driving the car out of fear his memories would become another reality.

As he calmed down, he began drumming his fingers on the steering wheel like he was going through withdrawal, craving a bottle of alcohol to wash away his thoughts. Truth be told, Hank didn't drink much anymore due to Connor's new hobby of introducing healthier habits into the lieutenant's life and practically abolishing any alcoholic beverages from their household. That didn't mean that Hank stopped seeing alcohol as a solution for his problems though, he still had a tendency to turn to alcohol when he found life was becoming too much for him. The all-too-familiar sensation of liquor burning the back of his throat never failed to put him into an anaesthetised state, transforming everything around him into pure ecstasy, far away from the usual horrors that haunted him in his daily life. But, no matter how much he wanted to go back to these old habits, that android sitting next to him was enough of a reason to not give in to temptation again. He glimpsed over at Connor with a sigh, knowing how much it pained him to watch the old lieutenant slowly kill himself day by day, he didn't want to upset Connor by bothering him with his problems right now. The detective already worried about Hank enough, it wasn't fair to put more on his plate when he was also struggling to control his deviancy. 

The car ride remained uncomfortably silent and that, accompanied with Hank's disconcerting thoughts and memories, was starting to drive the old man insane. He looked back over at Connor, seeing his normally softened features adorning a pensive frown, his gaze fixated on nothing in particular as his LED whirled a myriad of colours. Taking note of this evident distress, the concern from before resurfaced and he momentarily forgot about his own problems to focus on his partner's.

"So, uh...You wanna talk about earlier?" 

The sound of his voice caused Connor to shift his gaze away from the window and over to Hank, exhaling a breath he didn't need, "I cannot understand why deviancy is causing me so many problems--problems I cannot calculate any solutions to." He leaned his head against the passenger window, looking up at the sky as he delved deep into his mind, "I've been having frequent irrational thoughts and their origin is beyond me, but I have an uncontrollable desire to act upon them. I fear that if I cannot come to understand and manage my emotions, I may become dangerous, unpredictable." Connor squinted, turning to level Hank's perturbed stare once again, "I didn't expect deviancy to be like this, most deviants I have come into contact with don't seem to have these problems. Yet I do, and it irritates me that I do not know why." 

The lieutenant took a right on the road they were currently on, frowning at the android, "Connor, you're not dangerous just because you've started having feelings. Yeah, they're hard as shit to control, but that doesn't make you a bad person for having them." He said perilously.

This apparently wasn't the reassurance Connor was looking for, his fists clenched as his anger returned, to direct it at Hank surprised him even more, "You don't understand!" He snapped, feeling his sense of control fading from him as he slammed his fist against the window, startling the lieutenant, "Hank, I am a state-of-the-art prototype, I am equipped with the latest technologies and programs that include combat and self-defence if I need it. I can pre-construct fights and subdue enemies with _ease._ If I cannot learn to control myself, I will be prone to violence and harming people _._ Just this evening, I became so... _angry_ , that I entered an almost catatonic state and I wasn't in control of my actions. I was going to _hurt_ people, Hank." His voice cracked and his palm slid from the window to his lap, upon realising that this was _Hank_ he was talking to, he only wanted to make sure Connor was okay, the detective didn't want to risk saying anything more that would disrespect him or damage their relationship.

Hank hid behind a poker-face as he processed Connor's words, even the android couldn't analyse him and find out what he was thinking. He continued driving, taking note of their surroundings becoming more familiar as they neared Jericho, having drove Connor to the place a few times. He watched the detective fall back into an ashamed silence, his hands sliding over each other as he tried to focus on everything but the conversation at hand. Hank sighed, suddenly feeling a wave of regret wash over him, and he reached his non-dominant hand into his pocket to retrieve his partner's coin. He'd swiped it a few times because it truly did teeter on his last nerve, but he'd noticed it had became a coping mechanism to calm Connor down. Hank dropped the quarter into the android's lap, his brown eyes lighting up and he started to flip the silver object from hand to hand, twirling it along his fingertips. Once the atmosphere was settled again, he resumed their discussion. 

"Ok, so what stopped you from committing those actions?" Hank pressed, "You've pre-constructed whatever-the-fuck you were going to do, so why didn't you?" He let the question linger in the air for a moment to prompt Connor to think hard about it, "If you managed to subside those thoughts, you're in more control than you realise, Connor."

That's when the sliver of hope Connor had gained from his partner's words disappeared. He didn't stop himself at all. "Hank," He started sadly, "I only didn't carry out my intentions because Sumo stopped me. He saw me heading for the door so he came to see what I was doing. If it hadn't had been for him, I can't vouch for what I would've done. All I know is that it wouldn't have been good." 

The lieutenant traced his beard with the fingers of his left hand, his right remaining firmly on the wheel as his mind turned to alphabet soup. He struggled to respond to the confession which had caused those paternal instincts and his concern to sky rocket. Hank was in a similar boat to Connor, he didn't expect deviancy to do _this_ to androids, it seemed like a true gift to give androids the chance to experience being alive, but it all seemed to be a sinister farce now that he was seeing the true side effects of it. Understanding that Connor could be potentially unstable due to the deviancy virus made him want to turn the vehicle around and head straight back home. It seemed, dare he agree with Connor's choice of words, _dangerous_ to take the detective into the scene of a crime that could provoke emotions so strong it could cause him to lash out. All they had been doing was talking and it had already caused an outburst of emotion, anything at a crime scene was surely more troubling than a mere conversation. It seemed he'd have to keep an even closer eye on Connor for the foreseeable future, as if he too didn't worry enough already. 

The detective could sense Hank's growing wariness, quickly jumping in to avoid any further discussion of the topic, "I'm sorry, Hank, I shouldn't be bothering you with all this. Let's just focus on the case tonight."

"You're not troubling me, Connor," Hank said with a sigh, "I--"

"I know," Connor interrupted, "But I do not think it's fair for me to concern you with my own troubles when you yourself are already going through some hardships tonight. I know nightmares are not exactly a pleasant experience." 

The lieutenant gave a huff, "Yeah, ya think?" As much as he appreciated Connor's concern for him, this was a topic he had intended to avoid talking about. His reasoning for discussing Connor's problems was to forget about his own. He couldn't keep the venom out of his voice, "Guess some things don't like bein' left in the past. They've always gotta come back to fucking haunt you..."

The detective watched him closely, "It was about Cole, wasn't it?"

Hank closed his eyes for a brief second, "Yeah...It was." 

The empty silence descended upon them once more, neither wanting to risk breaking the thick tension that resided between them. This was a new sensation for the both of them, there was never any hesitation when talking before. Now, Connor feared he had said too much, and Hank feared he had said too little. One didn't offer enough comfort, and the other didn't offer sustainable advice and reassurance. The conversation had hit a dead zone; Connor wouldn't dare comment on Cole, knowing it was enough of a trigger to force Hank to block him out and return to that shell of a man he was when they first met. Maybe Hank thought the same about his reaction to emotions. 

No matter now, though. Connor had to focus on his new primary objective: Jericho. He could see the white lights of the settlement and the monumental building that stood tall in the sky, the former headquarters of Cyberlife. Once the revolution was over, Markus had more people than ever due to the thousands of androids that had been woken up and now looked to him for guidance in living their own lives. The problem had been finding a place to house all of them. Whilst androids could now legally own property, a lot still showed the desire to stick with their kind, specifically those who had been abused and were afraid to live among humans in housing estates. Some androids had their own houses and jobs though a good deal of companies were still wary of hiring androids, thus making a living was difficult and having independence was a reality only a few got to experience. That's when Markus and his inner circle decided to completely renovate the Cyberlife Tower and it's close establishments into living quarters for any androids who needed it. Of course, there was some initial discomfort from the deviants at having to live at the place where they were manufactured as slaves, this doubt was banished however when Markus redecorated the tower and added living spaces for each android. There were indoor lounging areas, bedrooms, repair wards, server rooms to monitor android activity and programming, playgrounds for any children--you name it, New Jericho had it. They could come and go as they pleased in the day and there was a curfew of midnight for the androids to be back in Jericho for their own safety. Deviants may have the same rights as humans, but that didn't stop them being more prone to danger at night. 

This made Connor wonder as Hank turned a corner and drove over the bridge to Jericho. It was strange how the android crimes had been committed inside the safety of their home instead of outside, in back alleyways and places where prying eyes couldn't reach, where such despicable crimes normally took place. Jericho had high-end security considering it used to belong to Cyberlife, so it was unnerving to think someone had slipped past that and caused chaos. This was unlike any other case they had been assigned to regarding android crime, this was a direct infiltration of the android sanctuary. Connor feared he was going to have trouble keeping it together with his emotions already running haywire and his stress levels rising just thinking about the capabilities of this intruder. 

Hank pulled the car into a stop, red and blue lights lighting up the area, indicating they weren't the only cops called to investigate the situation. There were four other police cars in front of Hank's, all parked carelessly outside the entrance into the tower. The two exited the vehicle and began approaching the entrance, only for Hank to stop and curse under his breath, dragging a hand down his face. Connor stopped and turned to him, wondering what the problem was. The lieutenant said nothing, his gaze hardened as he stared at something in front of him. The detective followed his line of sight, only to find Hank staring at two policemen leaning on the door of a police car. One of the officers was Chris Miller, who Connor assumed wasn't the victim of Hank's death glare. It was the cop next to him.

A cop no other than Gavin Reed. 

Connor had tolerated Gavin, though that was _before_ his deviancy. He didn't see Detective Reed around the precinct often, the man had gone out of his way to avoid Connor ever since their little... _incident_ in the evidence room. To see him now though, at the scene of an _android_ break-in no less, spiked feelings in the detective he fought hard not to acknowledge. It was the same with Hank, who was taking a moment to console himself before even thinking of approaching Reed, obviously being aware of the high likeability of him knocking some sense into the younger detective. Not like Connor could blame him though. He followed Hank's example, schooling his features and returning to his more machine-like state of mind in an effort to chase down any anger at the sheer sight of him.

"I don't understand why this fucker has been assigned to an android case." The lieutenant grumbled quietly, not wanting to draw the attention of said 'fucker'. 

"It seems he is not the only one here, Lieutenant," He resumed his professionalism now they were officially at a case, "Perhaps this is more serious than we thought." 

"Thank you for the optimism as always, Connor." Hank deadpanned.

"Sorry, Lieutenant."

They begrudgingly neared the other two officers, Chris glancing over his shoulder at them in acknowledgement as he focused on his tablet, scrolling through the details he'd received about the case, "Evening Hank, Connor. Sorry to drag both of you out at this hour." Before Hank could reply, another voice interrupted their friendly conversation.

"To be fair, we're fine without alcoholic Anderson and his plastic pet here. We can easily solve the case without you fucks, so nobody's gonna stop you if you wanna leave. I'm surprised Hank even made it out here, driving in the winter and all..." Gavin took pride in watching the fury spread on Hank's face. As the lieutenant was about to make the likeability of kicking Reed's ass a certainty, Connor's hand planted on Hank's shoulder, reeling him back.

"Oh, you can 'easily' solve this case? Is that why you're standing out here doing _fuck all,_ Detective Reed?" Connor's expression gave away nothing, not even an ounce of amusement as he watched Reed fluster in front of the other officers. Chris and Hank shared a look before bursting out laughing and Gavin began spewing profanities at the android in a pathetic attempt to save pride.

"You son of a bitch! You're lucky I--"

That's when Connor broke his machine facade, leaning in close to Reed so only he could hear him, "You'll what, Detective Reed?" His tone bled a deceiving politeness, "Do I need to remind you of what happened last time? I was a machine before, programmed to value human life over _everything._ I went easy on you." His voice lowered an octave, _"But I'm a deviant now. So you watch yourself, humans have a tendency of getting themselves set on fire these days."_ At the realisation that Connor had repeated his own words to him, Gavin visibly fumed, only serving to make Chris and Hank laugh harder, even a few others were snickering to themselves at the display. The deviant took a step back and smiled at him, feigning innocence. That's when Gavin raised his fist.

"Detective Gavin Reed, was it?" A calm, smooth voice called out to the man in question, stopping his attack as he turned to be met with the face of somebody he'd only seen in the news, dressed in an elegant, beige robe, "I must say I find it ironic that you are here on behalf of the DPD to investigate android crimes, when you are about to commit one yourself. On one of my very good friends, no less." Markus added with a chuckle, trying to defuse the situation. He promised confrontation if Gavin didn't cease hostility however. At the sound of the leader's comforting voice, Connor calmed down. Now that he had taken a step back from the situation, he noticed that what he had said to Reed was very out of character for him and it felt like his words weren't really his, they belonged to something else inside him. Still though, it felt good to give Gavin a taste of his own medicine. 

Reed's face was the same shade as a tomato, and without warning, he yelled, "Fuck you all," and abruptly got in his police car, pulling away from the entrance and gunning it down the road at a speed no officer should be going at. Connor would let it slide though, he had embarrassed the man enough for one night. Markus joined Chris and Hank in their laughter, the two nearly on the edge of tears. 

"Y'know, I used to think I was a bad influence," Hank paused to catch his breath, "Now I realise I must be doin' something right!"

Once everybody had calmed down, Markus turned to his friend, "Connor, it's good to see you again. We haven't heard from you in so long, I was starting to get worried." He welcomed, flashing his trademark smile that promised kindness and generosity, like the true leader he was. He extended his hand in formal greeting, but Connor did not take it. Something made him hesitate. Maybe this sudden kindness stunned Connor, it was unexpected due to him practically avoiding all contact with him and the other Jericho leaders. Maybe it was the seed of guilt that planted in his chest at the sight of Markus, their closeness reminding him of the distance between the barrel of his gun and the leader's head, the moment on the stage he still hadn't informed Markus of.

"I wish we could've met under better conditions." Connor responded eventually, avoiding his eyes.

Markus' smile faltered only a bit as his hand fell back down to his side, it cracked enough for Connor to pick up on it though, worsening that already flourishing guilt. "Me too. I assume you've been debriefed on the situation here?" He moved past their awkwardness smoothly. 

"I was about to," Chris interrupted, scrolling through his tablet to find the necessary information, "We got sidetracked by Connor roasting the shit out of Gavin. I can do so now, or do you wanna take it from here?" He asked Markus.

"It's fine, thank you Officer Miller. I'll explain on the way. Follow me." The deviant leader said, turning on his heel and beginning to lead Hank and Connor inside Jericho. 

The settlement was still familiar on the inside despite all the added renovations; they had kept a similar colour scheme to Cyberlife due to it being too big of a task to recolour the entire building and the layout remained mostly the same. The statue in the middle of the tower had been scrapped completely, some offered Markus build his own statue, but he didn't see himself as superior over his kind even though he had converted them all to deviancy. So instead, they replaced the marbled podium with grass and planted a blossoming willow tree, encasing the bridges below that branched off to different areas of Jericho. The tree became a symbol of hope for the androids, and hanging from the branches were flowers, hand crafted by the young android children who had taken to decorating the tree. Each flower contained names of those who had died during the revolution, acting as a memorial for their sacrifice. Yellow flowers represented deviants who were happy and joyful, brightening up the lives of other androids even if it meant they themselves suffered in silence. Purple flowers represented beauty and strength, chosen for the deviants who fought for their freedom until their last breath. Other flowers were red and contained more than one name, showing the love the deviants had formed before it was stripped away from them. As the trio passed, they could see there were deviants sitting under the tree and children playing, all paying their respects to the fallen in their own way. 

Markus stopped to bow his head in a silent greeting to the tree and his people, gaining the attention of the other deviants. A few acknowledged him, and others kept their head down after realising who was with him. Connor, the former deviant hunter. Most of the deviants respected Connor and what they had done to free them, but there were still a few who were wary of him because of his involvement in the former Jericho settlement getting raided by the FBI. The detective could understand their vigilance even if it did hurt to be viewed as untrustworthy, his content vanishing only to be replaced with remorse for his past actions. The leader noticed this and swiftly guided them down one of the three bridges that each led to an elevator. Once they had gathered inside, Markus pressed a button to send them to the fifth floor, there seemed to be no voice authorisation to use the lifts anymore. 

"So, what are we dealin' with?" Hank spoke up. 

The leader crossed his arms over his chest, "As you probably already know, Jericho has a curfew of midnight. We make sure everybody has been registered and identified so we don't end up locking anybody outside for the night and risk possibly endangering them." Markus sighed, shaking his head as if he couldn't comprehend what had happened here. He failed to add any more much needed information, retreating into his mind. 

"I need you to elaborate, Markus." Connor quirked a brow at him. The lieutenant mumbled an agreement. 

The elevator doors opened and the three stepped out to be greeted with the sight of a long white corridor littered with a few officers here and there. The fifth floor of the atrium had been turned into something akin to a hotel lobby with rooms for all the androids on the left side, the right side having an open balcony to peer down at the bottom floor of the tower. Markus presented one of the empty rooms to the two detectives, "All the people living on this floor were present hours ago. Me and Simon traced the entire perimeter of Jericho and we can't find them anywhere--I don't know what's happened." He admitted, his strong facade cracking under the pressure of the mysterious disappearances. 

Connor entered the small bedroom, analysing all objects and furniture, looking for any traces of fingerprints or thirium. He was surprised to find no evidence of a struggle, not a single thing was out of place in the room. Clothes were folded in their drawers, the bed sheets were neatly laid upon the mattress and the window which looked out over the city below remained untouched, the culprit or the victim hadn't left through it. His LED spun a confused yellow, the absence of any printings indicated this was not a human's doing but it seemed unlikely this was the doing of an android either, why would they do anything to harm their own kind? 

"These androids are all missing? All the rooms have been left like this?" Hank asked, wandering around the room, coming to the same conclusion as Connor. 

"Sadly, yes, though there's no signs to show that they were taken by force--"

"That's implying they were taken at all..." Connor thought aloud, capturing the attention of the other two in the room. "There's nothing that points to a possible struggle, it almost seems like they walked out by themselves."

Markus considered this, "We would've noticed an influx of people trying to leave, we have security cameras on each entrance and they're locked at this time of night too. Even if they were to leave, I doubt our people would without informing one of us."

"Maybe it wasn't willingly." The detective tossed out there, holding his hand under his chin as he built upon his hypothesis, a human-like posture he had picked up on down at the precinct, "You're correct, there doesn't seem to be a motive for the androids to just up and leave, yet it appears that way. I assume you have the security footage?"

The leader gave a nod, "Yeah, I can get Simon to show you to the control room if you want. We ourselves have already had a look through it, but we couldn't find anything out of the ordinary. You might spot something we didn't." 

Connor mulled this over, glancing to Hank as an epiphany hit him, "Lieutenant, would you mind reviewing the security footage, I've got something else I need to check."

Given his behaviour tonight, Hank was a bit reluctant to allow Connor to go off without him. However, Hank himself didn't have the slightest clue what could've happened here, so if Connor had a lead he didn't want to stand in the way. "Sure, if you think you're on to somethin', go for it. I'll let you know if I find anything. Where's this Simon guy at, then?" The lieutenant walked out the room, Markus and Connor following behind him. The leader pressed two fingers to his temple, sending across a message to Simon to tell him to come up to the fifth floor and retrieve Hank. 

"He's on his way now, he'll be here shortly." The leader said, redirecting his attention to Connor, "What was it you wanted to look at?" 

"I need to investigate the servers, if that is okay with you?" 

Markus' brows furrowed, already leading Connor to the elevator despite the lack of information given. When they were both inside, he pressed the button to take them to one of the higher floors in the tower, "You think there could be something up there?" He asked, unsure as to what Connor could find in such a secluded space. 

Curious blue and green met determined brown, "Considering the elevator doesn't require voice authorisation anymore, there could be evidence anywhere." Markus frowned at that, Connor began to pace in the small area, "There is a high chance that the reason these androids have gone missing is because something has overwritten or infected their system, giving them a new objective--controlling them, if you will. It seems to be the only logical reason for them to all go missing at once."

It clicked in Markus' head, "...Like a virus." 

The detective nodded, _"_ _Exactly_ like a virus. Deviancy itself is a virus; when an android becomes deviant, their previous programming is wiped due to them breaking free from it. So, hypothetically speaking, if a virus was to somehow overpower deviancy, their programming would be recreated, and the android would...cease to have free will, they would revert back to a machine-like state." 

The leader followed his path of thinking, "Deviancy can be spread by touch, do you suppose this virus could've been transferred in the same way?"

Connor absentmindedly rolled his coin over his knuckles, "Unless there is a trace of the intruder on the security footage, I cannot know for sure. If we go by the assumption that they all left at the same time, passing the virus individually would've made them leave at different intervals, not all together." The elevator doors opened as if on queue, "That's what brings me here. The only way to transmit a virus all at once would be to infect the server..." His voice trailed off, entering the room cautiously.

The room held a dark, indigo hue, a stark contrast to the brightness of the other levels of the tower, it was aligned with locked glass cabinets that contained the data and resources for android connections and programs, each individual server contained information about specific androids, leading Connor to believe only one had been intercepted as of right now. There were three long rows of the cabinets, creating a maze-like atmosphere, the lack of lighting only seemed to agitate Connor, fearing the intruder could still be hiding in the room. 

Connor's fears were confirmed when the sound of loud tapping resonated around them, a black shadow quickly running through the gaps between the servers, trying to move out of sight. The detective immediately used himself as a shield for Markus, using his arm to block the leader from approaching where the intruder was thought to be taking cover. Connor didn't have a weapon on him and he wasn't sure if the culprit was armed, so he would have to rely on stealth to apprehend the enemy. He glanced over his shoulder at Markus.

"I need you to block the door, I'm going to lure them out. We can't let them escape." His voice was just above a whisper, moving away from the leader and down the farthest server corridor. He couldn't risk the leader getting hurt, so he instructed him to do something that would keep him out of harms way for the most part. From the sound of the intruder's footsteps, it seemed they had backed themselves into the corner of the room. Connor weaved his way through the gaps slowly, getting closer and closer to the culprit's location.

Suddenly, a deactivated palm shot out of the darkness, attempting to grab the detective's wrist and force a connection. Connor reacted instantly, getting back far enough to dodge the grip and throw a punch at the shadow, knowing he had made a hit when he felt the familiar feel of plastic against his knuckles. The intruder recovered from the hit as soon as it made contact, confirming that this was indeed an android gone rogue. The culprit stumbled out and into the faint light, taking one second to look at Connor before booking it for the exit.

Markus, hearing the scuffle and sound of footsteps nearing him, prepared himself and took a stance. The android sprinted down one of the corridors, but seemed to hesitate when he saw the leader himself blocking his way out. Something stirred inside the intruder and for a second he seemed conflicted between running or confronting the leader, like he was selecting the priority objective. Markus approached him with worry, his leader nature making him softer now that it wasn't a human who was the cause of tonight's problems. It was his responsibility to correct behaviour like this and help his people.

Little did the leader know that this was all an act. When Markus was close enough, the android bolted at him again, catching the leader off-guard and shoving him to the side, freeing his exit. Connor leapt back into action, quick on the android's tail, only to stop in his tracks when the culprit suddenly vaulted over the balcony of the floor, falling down below. The detective feared the worst, but when he peered over the balcony, he was shocked to see the android had landed on the floor below them and was continuing to amble down the floors of the tower in the most dangerous way known to man. Markus caught up with him, watching the display with bewilderment. Sensing what Connor was going to do next, he gripped his elbow fiercely.

"Connor, _no._ It's too dangerous--" His words went unheard as Connor easily pulled out of the grip and followed the other android's movements, vaulting over and landing on the floor below. Connor felt everything fade away in that moment, his emotions, his fears, all he was focused on was the chase. 

The culprit was still flinging himself down the floors, his movements becoming less fluid as he watched Connor catching up to him without any trouble. When the android broke into a sprint whilst he encircled the floor he was on, Connor struck, dropping through the gap and landing next to him, kicking him square on his back. The infiltrator pushed himself up before Connor could attack again, barrelling into him and knocking him off balance momentarily; he took this opportunity to burst into a room next to them, where a deviant panicked at the sight of the two precarious androids breaking into her room. The intruder wasted no time with her however, opening her window and leaping from it. Having been so engrossed in the chase, Connor didn't even calculate the risk of casualties for the both of them before he followed him out.

The android landed with a tumble whilst Connor absorbed the fall by rolling onto his back, recuperating faster than the still prone android. The detective watched him with quaint uncertainty, darkened brown eyes looking down upon him as the intruder struggled to bounce back from the hasty descent, his leg having been badly mangled in the fall. Connor, being a more advanced and capable android, suffered no injuries.

He kept his distance from the android, assuming he was carrying the unknown virus as he had tried to force a connection with him before. His target made an effort to scramble to their feet and put space between them, only to stumble and fall down once more, unable to withstand the added pressure on their broken limb. There were wires poking out at joints they shouldn't be and blue static was glittering through the synthetic skin. Connor felt sympathy for the android and he wanted to help, but doing so now was simply too dangerous. The man met his unwavering stare, accepting that he wasn't going to get away. There was no life in those emerald eyes, no regret, no signs of trauma from suffering an injury. He only awaited Connor's response, what happened to him next didn't matter, he had fulfilled his purpose. A scapegoat.

A machine that had just accomplished its mission. 


	4. Interrogation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies, I took a week break for personal reasons. All good now though :)
> 
> Also updating on a Tuesday?? Idk either. I said weekends but at least it's semi-weekly lol.

Connor drummed his fingers against his desk absentmindedly, resting his chin on his palm as he checked and rechecked the notes he had made on his terminal. After catching the thought-to-be culprit at Jericho last night, Connor had been eager to return to the DPD and investigate further into the case with Hank. As of right now, the lieutenant wasn't present, he was currently interrogating the captured android with Chris and Gavin, leaving Connor to review the open case file by himself. It was still highlighted as ongoing despite the intruder being taken into custody; none of the missing androids had been recovered. Connor couldn't help but feel as if the events of yesterday were all part of an elaborate set-up, it didn't make any sense as to why the intruder was hiding out in the server room instead of disappearing along with the others. On the surface, it gave the appearance that the hidden android was the one who attacked the server, but that made even less sense.

The intruder was identified as a male AP700, one of the models that Connor had freed from Cyberlife tower. They were designed as household helpers and caretakers, physically making it impossible for one to have access to the necessary information and intellect to be able to hack into a server and upload code into it. There wasn't much clarity surrounding the infection as Connor hadn't had the time to investigate the server's damage himself, though Markus had assured him and his inner circle would look into it and send him any details. Still, presuming it was a virus that had been uploaded, an AP700 wouldn't be able to do that. This further fed into Connor's suspicion that the android had merely acted as a scapegoat and their arrest had been part of someone's plan all along. All he had done was fall right into it. 

Connor let out a sigh as he leaned back in his office chair, picking up his coin from the desk and beginning to fiddle with it. He scanned the file again, searching for any clues he may have missed. After finding nothing, he frowned, feeling the familiar buzz of annoyance growing inside him. It felt like the answer was right under his nose and yet so far away, he was missing something, something so small yet so detrimental, and being a state-of-the-art prototype, it was enough to hurt his pride a little. He briefly glanced up from the terminal screen at the sound of approaching footsteps, a very miffed looking Hank making his way over and plopping himself down in his chair unceremoniously. From the growl that accompanied the gesture, it was evident the lieutenant was frustrated too. 

Connor quirked a brow at him, "Find anything?" 

"Nothin'," Hank said with a shake of his head, "Fucker won't even talk to us."

The detective frowned at that, leaning forward in his chair to rest his elbows on the desk, "He didn't tell you anything?" 

"It was like trying to talk to a brick wall." The lieutenant huffed, "I asked him some questions and he just sat there, didn't even fucking _blink_ , come to think of it. Reed and Chris tried to question him as well and he didn't give anything up."

Connor blinked suddenly, remembering something, "When I caught him last night, he appeared emotionless too. He didn't try to get away or defend himself, he seemed to accept the situation." He tapped his chin, "Something must've scrambled his coding for him to just become unresponsive like that."

"You and Markus went to the server room yesterday, right? You find anything there that could do that to an android?"

"We believe it could be due to a virus," He began, "It seems to be the only logical explanation for such a change in behaviour in a large amount of androids; not to mention when I encountered the AP700 he tried to force a connection with me. There was also significant damage done to one of the servers but it's too dangerous to interact with, we could pick the virus up ourselves just by connecting with it. " He paused to look at Hank, "Did you see anything on the security footage?"

Whilst Connor had been talking, the lieutenant had switched on his own terminal and was reading the case file Connor had put together, "Truth be told, there wasn't a whole lot to look at." The detective tilted his head curiously at that, "The cameras on each entrance were all showing different recordings of androids just livin' their lives in Jericho, thought nothin' of it at first." Hank seemed to grow even more frustrated, "Turns out, someone replaced the tapes. The footage shown was of the night _before,_ wasn't sloppy work, either. Took me and that Simon kid a while to realise it was fake." 

Connor drifted out of the conversation, focusing on evaluating the details Hank had supplied him with. Once again, all clues pointed away from the AP700 being the true culprit behind the infiltration--if he had even infiltrated it at all. It seemed that the puzzle was slowly coming together within his mind; the androids all went missing seemingly at the same time, the cameras had been replaced and the AP700 had been infected with the virus, though he had a different objective to the rest due to him hiding in the server room. But the only way for him to have a different objective...

"Would be if he was given the virus directly..." Connor finished aloud, earning a perplexed look from Hank.

"What?" 

The detective took a moment to console his thoughts before laying out his theory to his partner, "He was given the virus _directly_ by the criminal, not via the server--he was in Jericho, but he must've escaped. The android in the interrogation room is innocent." Connor quickly stood up from his chair, nearly knocking it over in the process.

"But then why was he in the server room?" The android levelled a precarious gaze at his partner.

"Whoever did this _wanted_ us to find that android, Hank." Connor was pacing now, feeling like he was making actual progress, "AP700 androids can't hack a server and spread a virus. He wasn't in there because he attacked the server, he was there to act as a scapegoat."

"So the real culprit could get away." Hank finished, crossing his arms over his chest, "Shit, we've been played. That still doesn't tell us why he isn't talking to us, though."

"The virus has rewritten his programming, his existence now only revolves around the objectives the virus has given him." The lieutenant gave him a blank look, so he elaborated in a way he could understand, "Like mind-control, if you will. If his only goal was to get captured, then he has completed his purpose." 

"What happens to him now, then? If he's 'completed his purpose'?"

Connor stayed silent for a moment and that hesitation was all Hank needed to know the outcome was not in the android's favour, "I cannot say for sure, but...I would imagine he would cease to exist. He would remain an idle machine until he is given more orders to carry out. If those orders never come, then..." He trailed off, quickly righting himself before he led the conversation down a particularly morbid path, "That is all going by the assumption that we do not remove the virus though, I'm positive the effects can be reversed if we find a way to purge it from the android's coding."

The android detective cast a glance at the interrogation room down the hall, Hank noticed and gave him a concerned look, "I take it you wanna speak with him?" Connor opened his mouth to reply but the lieutenant held up a hand, silencing him, "Look, I ain't gonna say no, but if your theory is correct about him having a virus, don't go doing that inter-fucking-facing-thing, _whatever it is_ , ya hear? Last thing I need is you picking up that shit." 

Connor appeared conflicted and Hank could sense the argument before it even left his mouth, "Hank, if he doesn't talk, I might only be able to obtain the adequate information through an interface--"

The lieutenant suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, of course Connor was willing to put himself in harm's way for the sake of his people, _again,_ " _No._ I'm not--"

"--Maybe if I probe his memory instead, he won't be able to transfer the virus into my system. Though it is certainly a traumatic experience for androids--" Connor had started rambling, trying to convince Hank that his idea could work, but his partner cared too much to let him endanger himself for the sake of a case they didn't know enough about yet.

"Connor, I'm not letting you in that fuckin' room if you go doing that, alright?" The android bit back his argument about him being able to use the scanner to open the room himself, he was sure Hank wasn't referring to that though, "We are running on pure speculation about this virus, your ideas are good, but they're not _facts_. Bottom line, we don't know what this virus does, Connor. If he doesn't tell you anything, leave it at that, don't go and contract the damn thing, 'cause I promise you, that will not help us in the slightest." 

The android mulled over the words in his head, knowing Hank had a point. So did he, however, "If I access his memory, I can see who gave him the virus." He emphasised, stopping in his pacing to face Hank, "And by the off-chance I do pick up the virus, I can use it as a sample to analyse it so we can find out more about it. My coding is sophisticated enough that I believe I could resist its effects for a while to investigate it."

The lieutenant narrowed his eyes, rising from his chair so he could stand face-to-face with his partner, he was starting to grow annoyed at Connor's lack of self-preservation, "Yeah? And what happens if your plan doesn't work? What if you become _exactly_ like that android in there?" He gestured to the interrogation room, "Then what, Connor?"

Connor's confidence from moments ago began to dissipate and he couldn't glance away quick enough for it to go unnoticed. "...I--Hank, we'll need a sample sooner or later--"

Hank gave him a stern look and placed his hands on his hips, resembling a disappointed parent, "Okay, fine, I will refrain from interfacing with him." Connor finally relented. The lieutenant gave a small huff though a smile was creeping on his face at how human _,_ albeit very stubborn, Connor appeared. It filled him with a sense of pride seeing this transition from machine to deviant and how he had seemed to have calmed down since yesterday. Winning the argument was also a good ego-booster. Hank sat back in his seat, a bit too smugly for Connor's liking, giving the android permission to go and question the suspect. 

As Connor made his way out of the bullpen and towards the interrogation room, he spotted Chris and Gavin walking down the corridor and towards him. At the sight of the android, Gavin tensed up and mumbled incoherent curses, speeding up to rush past Connor and avoid any confrontation with him. Usually, Gavin would've shoved him with his shoulder, today however he kept his distance, it seemed last night's threat had been heard loud and clear. That filled Connor with a satisfaction he tried not to endorse in, he shouldn't feel peace of mind from threatening someone. Yes, Gavin was a complete dick to him, as Hank would say, but bringing himself down to the detective's already disgustingly low level didn't make him any better. He had to be the bigger person and learn to tolerate Gavin again, he didn't want to cause any disruption in the workplace--said detective already had that job covered for him. Maybe Gavin had reasons as to why he wasn't the nicest person to androids, reasons Connor didn't really find any interest in. Reed didn't respect him and that was enough for Connor to show no curiosity surrounding the man. 

Chris watched the display with amusement, a fond lightness in his eyes that Connor didn't reciprocate. The detective stopped just in front of him and gave him a soft smile. Officer Miller was in the majority of people in the DPD who respected Connor despite him being an android; Markus' peaceful revolution had changed a lot of people's perspectives regarding those who bled a different colour to them. Most of the workers in the station treated him like everybody else on the job, with mutual respect. It made Connor feel welcomed and accepted in the workplace, he was sure Gavin could pick up a few things about respect from his co-workers.

"Hey, Connor. Gavin and I were just about to take a break. I assume you're going to see that android?" Connor nodded, "Third door on the right." He then leaned in close so he were only inches away from the android's face, "I'll let you go in by yourself for now, he seemed unresponsive before, maybe he'll talk if he doesn't have a load of pairs of eyes on him." He theorised with a shrug, "We keep this between me and you though, Fowler will bust my ass if he finds out." 

"Keep what between us, Officer?" Connor said innocently. Chris let out an entertained snort, continuing to walk past the android and towards the break room. It was interactions like this that should make him feel content, not giving out not-so-subtle threats that were not-so empty. That was something he would worry about later though, for now he had to focus on the broken android awaiting him.

He placed his deactivated hand against the scanner and let himself in. Connor was not prepared for what greeted him. His aura of poise failed when he took in the sight of the eerily still android sitting up straight, body rigid, hands glued to the table due to the handcuffs, staring at the wall ahead as if searching for something that wasn't there. His eyes were gone, a thousand mile stare that was completely devoid of all the life that had once inhabited them. Azure eyes that once held a hopeful light, a hope for a better future, were now darkened and dilated, their light gone and replaced with emptiness. They were glazed over, frosted almost, similar to the haunting eyes of the deceased. He didn't even cast a glance towards the detective. He remained patiently waiting for something that would never come. 

A purpose. 

Empathy flourished inside him and he had to suppress the urge to reach out and touch the other, to offer comfort and solace, even if a machine like him would not gain anything from it. Instead, he calmed himself and maintained his professionalism, closing the distance between them by taking a seat opposite the AP700. They sat in silence for a moment longer whilst Connor finished his analysis and mentally reviewed the notes on the file. There wasn't any physical indication that the android was carrying the virus, which made it all the more dangerous. On the surface, he appeared stationary and normal, and that was what made Connor's own stress levels rise substantially before they settled at the near sixties. 

The detective inhaled a breath to compose himself, finally glancing up to meet the other's empty eyes, "I know you didn't do it." He began softly, never once breaking the stiff eye-contact.

He didn't continue right away, waiting to see if he could rouse some sort of response from the android. So far, there were no signs of life shown, but Connor wouldn't let that deter him. "You have the virus, but you didn't attack the server, did you?" He spoke with assurance, making his question sound like a statement. He paused again.

There was a flicker of movement, the faintest twitch of an eye that would've gone unnoticed had Connor not been an RK model designed for negotiation and detective work. The detective latched on to that shift in character and he pressed onward, "If you don't talk to me, there is nothing I can do to help you. I can't find the person who gave you this virus, who did this to you. All I want is to help eradicate it from your system. You want that too, don't you?" 

The android's LED swirled in colour before settling on a blood-like crimson, blinking frantically in the dim light of the room, drawing the detective's attention. Connor unconsciously felt himself lean forward, resting his elbows on the edge of the table and clasping his hands together. The close proximity seemed to soothe the android, whose LED started to blink slower in response. He twiddled his thumbs as he watched the AP700's face, feeling his emotions starting to overwhelm him, desperation, sympathy, both clouding his judgement regarding the situation, that comfort the android had found in him enticing him to offer more.

He had been so focused on the android before him he didn't notice the synthetic skin peel away and the AP700 attempt to lunge at him until the last second.

Even though the cuffs held the android back from grabbing Connor's arm, he still jolted out of his seat, backing away from the android until his back was nearly touching the wall. He inwardly scolded himself, a momentary lapse of judgement that had nearly cost him his sentience. That sympathy from before faded into slight fear. He knew the android couldn't reach him thanks to the restraints, it didn't stop the threat from being just as menacing and unpredictable though. Connor was contemplating sitting down again, but the android stopped him when he _spoke._

"Y-You said you were going to help me!" His voice was loud and desperate, attempting to incline as close to Connor as possible, causing the detective to go on the defensive. Both his hands were now stark white, revealing the exoskeleton of the android. The AP700 then twisted in the cuffs, snapping the joints in his wrist to be able to offer his palms face up to Connor, "If you want to help me, _let me do this._ "

Connor spared the door a glance, contemplating running out and retrieving Hank to make sure things didn't take a turn for the worst. Though...He was finally getting a response from the android, he couldn't risk Hank coming in and dragging him out because he deemed the situation too dangerous. He faced the android once more, masking his fear with apathy. 

"I can't risk interfacing with you, I'm sor--"

"You have to!" The android snapped, banging his now broken hands on the table and startling Connor, "I'll die if you don't! I don't have that much longer left! Please!" 

The detective felt his head swim with questions. He analysed the AP700 and saw his stress had reached critical levels, shifting upwards of eighty-nine percent. Connor's own stress levels rose to the seventies as he fumbled around for a question that he bargained had the mostimportance. 

"Why are you going to die?" 

"I have to--" The AP700 was interrupted as he abruptly started coughing, an action Connor wasn't even aware androids could perform, and thirium came sprouting from his mouth, splattering on the metal table and coating his lips in the all-too-familiar fluid. The smell of burning metal and plastic filled the room, causing Connor's sensory components to kick into overdrive, he was sure if he could choke on foul air, he would be doing so right now. The android's internal biocomponents were heating up to a dangerous degree, slowly burning him alive. His plastic skin started to rip apart, melting onto the white exoskeleton beneath that had started to turn black. The tubing that supplied the body with thirium couldn't stand the temperature and split apart, causing blood to sprout through the chassis and onto the detective. Connor was rooted to the spot as his stress levels shot up to ninety-three percent, unable to look away from the traumatic display in front of him.

A few seconds later, Connor managed to shake himself from his reverie, advancing towards the android and conducting a quick analysis, looking to see if there was anything he could do to prevent his untimely demise. Realising that he couldn't stop the heating and bleeding, his stress peaked and in a fleeting attempt to save the android that was barely clinging onto life, he deactivated the skin on his hand and he reached for the android's, preparing for a wave of foreign code to overwhelm him.

It never came.

The detective didn't even have the chance to request a connection before he was yanking his hand back, looking down to see a black burn mark appearing on his white chassis, the heat spreading through until the plating became transparent and he could see the wires and thirium flowing beneath it. When he turned to look back at the android, it was reaching towards him and stopped mid-action, electrical sparks flying from him as he shorted out, falling down on to the table with a thump. His LED blinked once before it turned off completely, the now limp body starting to produce a light smoke from its mouth and nose, thickening the air. 

Connor's body visibly shook with horror. Was _this_ what the virus was capable of? _This_ is what he had volunteered to contract for the sake of analysis? He was overpowered by the sudden feeling of something rising up his body, and soon enough he was on his knees, retching at the floor. Connor was not aware that androids could be repulsed to the point of causing sickness, but here he was, spewing his own thirium onto the already ruined floor. He couldn't think straight, staring up at the corpse of one of his people, an innocent android _destroyed_ in an abominable way. He heaved in breaths he didn't need, his systems notifying him of his stress levels being critical and urging him to seek assistance. 

He fell back against the wall, clutching his abdomen as thirium dribbled down his chin. _'_ _Seek assistance'_ continued to blare on his HUD. He heeded to the warning, scrolling through his contacts and selecting Hank, informing him that there was a...situation in the interrogation room. He could already hear the lieutenant's panicked footsteps echoing down the hall.

And then, he contacted someone else.

Someone he felt drawn to in his traumatised state, even if he was usually aloof towards him.

Markus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof things are really HEATING up
> 
> I'll leave


	5. Anxiety

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this whilst running on 4 hours of sleep and also finished it at 1am, and I'm not even remotely tired
> 
> I'm obviously an android

After receiving the distress call, Markus had promptly dropped everything he was doing and was on the first taxi to the DPD. As soon as he had arrived, he was met with the sight of all the workers gathered outside the front of the station. He was confused at first, but upon further inspection, he could see the thick smoke seeping out from the interrogation room and into the bullpen, causing the people to evacuate to avoid choking on the foul residue. There was the sound of sirens drawing closer in the distance, the fire brigade having been called to sort out the situation. Markus felt his prosthetic heart thump faster in his chest, increasing at a steady pace as he inspected the crowd desperately, searching for his android companion. The leader couldn't possibly locate Connor in the sea of people with no assistance, so he flicked his scanners on and analysed his vision, feeling relief explode inside him when he identified the detective a bit further away from the building, accompanied by Hank and Captain Fowler. 

Markus' steps faltered as he neared the trio, gasping at the sight of the detective. Connor was covered, head-to-toe, in thirium. The leader couldn't keep his distance any longer and sprinted over to them, his sudden movement interrupting their conversation. Markus acted on impulse, spinning Connor around and gripping his forearms, taking in the appearance of his blue face and splattered chest. To see the usual calm and collected detective reduced to such a state pained Markus, and the shock he felt forced all comforting words out of his mind. His next actions were rather rude and unlike him; he abruptly ushered Connor back to the taxi and yelled to the other two they were going to Jericho. Connor didn't protest and neither did Fowler or Hank, so he assumed they were alright with it anyhow.

Once the vehicle had started moving, Markus spoke up, "Are you alright?" When he didn't receive an immediate response, he mentally scolded himself at the stupid question. Of course he wasn't alright, he was dripping thirium in the back of a taxi. He performed a brief analysis, learning that the thirium on Connor's clothes didn't belong to him but to that of an AP700 and there were traces of his own on his lips. His stress levels were on the rise, peaking at eighty-two percent.

Connor caught the other staring and fidgeted in his seat. "It's not mine." 

"I know." Markus said softly, trying to ease the tension between them and in turn calm his friend. It worked a little, his levels dropped down to seventy-nine percent, though they were still too high for the leader to find peace of mind. Connor didn't say any more on the matter, leaning his forehead against the window and watching the world go by. Markus caught sight of his expression in the reflection; his brows were furrowed and his eyes lidded, the corners of his mouth tipped downwards ever so slightly, and it hurt him to know he was powerless to get rid of that anguish. He looked tired, fed-up and there was a lingering fear under it all that he was doing a poor job at hiding. He watched with concern as the detective's hands were overcome with tremors and he clasped them tightly, trying to will the unwanted motion away. He performed another scan and noticed his stress levels had climbed back up to eighty-one percent.

Cautiously, he placed his hand on Connor's knee. He didn't expect the detective to flinch, "I'm glad you reached out to me."

Connor didn't reply. His hands stopped shaking. 

They arrived back at Jericho fifth-teen minutes later. Connor was surprised to find the main lobby barren, no androids in sight. There were no children playing under the memorial tree like the other day, no deviants travelling around Jericho, the establishment was stiffly quiet and it made him feel apprehensive. The only sound was of their respective shoes echoing against the marbled flooring below and his already concerning stress levels shifted higher. Markus was quick to notice, Connor was sure he had been silently analysing him the entire time, and the leader knew he had to nip this in the bud fast before his stress reached one-hundred percent.

"There's nobody here because they're all in their rooms or the repair ward." He reassured.

"But it's barely the afternoon." 

"I know. Everybody is a bit shaken up about the recent events, so I can understand why people would want to avoid being out in the open." 

Connor gave a rigid nod and paused in his movements. Markus was already walking to one of the elevators, unaware of the detective not following him. Connor was stood in front of the Jericho willow tree, studying it attentively now that he had the chance to without being judged. The leader watched him closely, taking note that his stress levels had dropped by seven percent just by being in close proximity to the memorial. Markus had an idea, and he strode back over to Connor. 

"Would you like to talk here?" He gestured to the tree.

Connor looked away in embarrassment at being read so easily, "I don't feel like it's my place to do so," He argued. Markus had already seen the effect the monument had had on calming Connor, so even if the detective didn't voice his clear want to stay here, they were going to.

"Connor, you're one of us. If you feel like talking here, then we will talk here. You might not live at Jericho, but it's as much as a home to you as it is to everybody else." 

"It's not a professional environment." Connor huffed, as stubborn as ever.

Markus felt an easy smile spread on his lips, "It doesn't have to be professional, Connor, this isn't a meeting. This is me making sure you are alright. We'll talk here, and then we're going to the repair ward, I know you've lost thirium." The leader was already stepping up onto the grass covered podium and sitting against the thick tree-trunk, waiting for Connor to mimic his movements expectantly. Connor seemed to struggle to convince himself that he was allowed to have a safe space at first, though after a second or two he followed Markus' example and sat next to him, far enough away so they didn't touch, but close enough to be considered friendly. It was okay that Connor was hesitant, at least his stress levels were back in the sixties. Still too high, but not high enough for self destruction, so Markus himself could relax a bit. 

He crossed his legs, still upholding the tense posture Hank had reprimanded him for, "I only lost ten percent--anyway, that's not what we should be talking about," He rectified.

"How?" 

Connor felt sudden annoyance course through his wires, "Markus, it doesn't matter--" He tried, only to be interrupted. 

Markus' stern tone held no room for arguments, "Connor, the message you sent me was concerning. I know something happened at the station, and I assume that's what you want to tell me about, but I need to make sure you're okay first. So, I'll ask again, how did you lose ten percent of your thirium?" 

He watched as the detective lifted his non-burnt hand and wiped the back of it against his lips, collecting a few traces of his dried thirium, "I expelled it." He said.

"Expelled?" Markus replied, frown creasing deeper with worry.

Connor visibly struggled for a coherent definition, "I suppose it could be defined as vomiting." The leader's eyebrows shot up at that, and Connor nodded, "I know, I was unaware androids could do it too. I've seen androids bleeding from the mouth due to thirium leakages in their biocomponents, but this is different. I wasn't damaged, Markus. I was..." He trailed off, eyes glossing over as he thought back to the AP700.

"You were?" He asked gently, softening his tone as he encountered a steady rise in his stress levels. 

"...Scared," He whispered after a beat of silence, "Repulsed, angry, convicted." Connor's fists clenched, "I felt myself slipping away again. I didn't know what to do, so I called you--I don't know why, I just...In the moment, it felt like the right thing to do." Despite having pointedly ignored Jericho for as much as he could, in his time of need, Connor had called Markus. It was something that perplexed him just as much as it probably perplexed the leader. The detective had been refusing to contact or affiliate with Markus out of fear the incident on the stage would happen again, it was easier to keep his distance than attempt to get close to him, so to break his own pact surprised him too, but he couldn't help it. He didn't know why he called Markus, why he didn't rush out the interrogation room and yell at everyone to get out, why instead he felt frozen as he forced himself to stare back at the unforgettable, foggy eyes of the dead AP700. It was similar to his angry outbursts, though he couldn't recall losing control of his motor functions like he did when he had one of those breakdowns. Instead, he had felt a sheer rush of _terror_ fill every fibre of his chassis, a numbness spread within him as he couldn't leave the room no matter how hard he tried. That image of the black and blue, burning android would forever be ingrained in his memory. He felt his burnt hand tingle wildly, almost as if he was reliving the burning again, an evident response to him having dug too much into the too raw memory. He pushed it away.

To his shock, Markus wasn't confused, or if he was, he didn't let it show, "I'm glad you called me, even if you don't know why." That delicate, coaxing tone was back, making Connor aware that his stress levels had rose at the thought of the AP700 and the leader was constantly monitoring them, "What do you mean by 'slipping away'?"

The detective wanted this conversation to end as soon as possible, he had already let too much slip. He didn't want Markus to waste his concern on something as trivial as his inability to handle deviancy when there was a literal virus out there, _killing_ androids. His problems could wait, the virus was too important to neglect. He was suddenly very careful with his next words, "Markus, this isn't important. I have to inform you about--"

"Connor." That icy edge had returned, warning the detective Markus wanted an answer, though he remained primarily patient and gentle.

"Markus," Connor returned with just as much intensity, if not more, "Please, let me tell you what happened. I am touched by your concern, but what happened at the station is much more important than me right now." Markus levelled him a reluctant stare, Connor scrambled to assure him, "I will continue this conversation with you another time, I promise."

The leader let out a defeated sigh. "Go on, then." 

Connor seemed to mimic the same sigh as he had difficulty collecting his thoughts, he was aware that he was becoming anxious again as Markus' expression fluttered, if only for a fleeting moment, "Markus, this virus is so much more dangerous than I thought." He was beating around the bush, they both knew it. He had so desperately wanted to tell the leader about what had happened, but now that he was doing it, he felt more scared than ever.

The leader tried not to look into the detective's deflated tone too much, he attempted to offer information to help Connor, "We were under the assumption that their programming was rewritten and they were given new objectives to carry out. Is that confirmed, now?" 

He hesitated for a moment, "It's _worse_ than that, Markus." His shoulders sagged and he tilted his head back to rest against the trunk, focusing on the little yellow flower dangling a metre above him, his nails digging into the dirt, "I do believe that is what has happened, though I cannot confirm anything. When I interrogated him, he didn't tell me much, and I couldn't risk interfacing with him to see what exactly had happened to his programming. So I have no facts." His voice shrunk, "To think, when I first went in there, I was prepared to pick up the virus so I could analyse a sample. Now that I know what it does..." 

Markus could see how taxing this was on Connor, "It's alright. We can talk about this another time, I think we need to--" 

Then the detective raised his arms and spread them in front of him in an exasperated gesture, grass ripping from the ground with the movement, "No! This is important! I have to tell you now!" His voice had raised a tad higher than it should've, and it showed, some of the androids walking along the atrium balconies were now peering down towards them. Markus only glanced at them before turning back to his friend. 

"Connor, I'm going to need you to calm down if we're to continue this discussion." The leader's compassion from moments ago had been replaced with a firmness Connor hadn't been expecting and he wavered. Markus didn't usually take such a tone with him, so it was easy to work out that Markus was becoming increasingly worried and was demanding Connor take a step back to console himself, once again silently informing him his stress was fluctuating due to the conversation. He was right, Connor had to calm himself down to be of any use. His arms fell back down and he kept his hands in his lap. Markus followed his movement with his eyes, opening his mouth to follow up his previous statement when he suddenly grabbed Connor's burnt hand, inspecting it. 

"When did this happen?" He turned the hand over, then it dawned on him, "This is because of what happened at the station, isn't it?" 

"Yes." 

"Okay," Markus breathed, the severity of the situation hitting him full-force, "Tell me as much as you can. Take your time." A restrained warning to tell him not to overwhelm himself. 

Connor took a moment to retrieve his coin from his pocket, rolling it over his knuckles and spinning it on his fingertips. Once fully calmed and re-calibrated, he shifted his body to face Markus face-on, holding a stare with those mismatched eyes, "The AP700 self-destructed in front of me." It was a bit blunt because Connor didn't think he had the right to sugarcoat it. Markus needed to know how serious this was. 

As expected, Markus' face fell immediately and Connor found himself analysing the other's stress levels, finding them at a staggering fifty-eight percent, a fifth-teen percent increase because of eight words. Perhaps he should've been a bit gentler, like Markus had been for him. It was futile to dwell on his lack of benevolence, the truth was out there. Now they could work on a solution. 

"He..." Markus shook his head, he also realised dwelling on it wouldn't do either of them any good, "Why? How?" 

Connor could feel the memory of the AP700 lingering at the forefront of his mind again, he willed his systems to push the memory down as far as they could, not wanting the image of those dead eyes to impair the accuracy of his information, he decided to start from the very beginning, "When I went to interrogate him, he was unresponsive, similar to how he was when I had caught him at Jericho. I prompted him for some answers, and I reassured him all I wanted was to help purge the virus from his system. At first, he gave me nothing to work with, as expected, he was like a machine. I must've stirred some strong emotions in him, because he managed to react despite the virus..." The memory became stronger, more realistic, "All I wanted was to help him, Markus." 

The leader nudged closer, "I know. What happened after he reacted to you?" 

The tremors in his hands were returning, he conducted a scan of his systems and found his stress had wormed its way back up to eighty-percent, Markus was alert and hadn't taken his eyes off of him, he knew his levels too, "I let my guard down, Markus. I was so intent on helping him I didn't notice he was attempting to force a connection. If he hadn't had been restrained by handcuffs, he would've passed the virus on to me." Saying those words intensified the realisation inside him, anxiety flowing through him, "He would've passed the virus on to me." He echoed, shaken by the epiphany.

Markus' hands covered Connor's, holding them gently to stop the shaking. It worked, his levels lowered once more, "You're doing great, Connor. I know this is difficult for you to talk about, especially with it being so recent." The leader closed his eyes for a second, contemplating his next question, it was already super risky to provoke Connor in this state, "I hate to ask this of you, Connor. You need to tell me why and how he self-destructed." 

Those were Markus' original questions and the detective hadn't answered them yet. Markus could guess as to why. The RK200 felt proud of him though, because Connor wasn't outright refusing to tell him, he was trying to cooperate, even if it took him longer than a minute to respond. "He said to me: _'If you want to help me, let me do this,'._ " The detective took a breath and attempted to detach himself to prevent his emotions from spilling, "His objective was to infect me with the virus, he was targeting me. When I refused to interface, he said he didn't have much longer left. Then, his body started shutting down." 

Markus remained silent, waiting for Connor to continue. When he did, it was with a timid look in his eyes, "He was so desperate to interface with me that he snapped his own wrists. His biocomponents began to overheat and his chassis melted under the forced pressure of it. His thirium tubing suffered the same fate, his blood was thrown over me. All I could do was watch as he melted away, his death slow and painful. It was like watching candle wax, dripping down, and down, staining the table, staining the metal..." Connor's stress levels were at the nineties now, but he couldn't stop talking, his voice minute and frightened. Markus' hands were now on his shoulders, "I tried to help him, I tried to interface with him to see if I could save him, that's how I burnt myself. I didn't try to help after that. I couldn't move, Markus. I was _paralysed._ I saw him die-- _I watched him die._ "

His stress levels teetered at ninety-three percent, and Markus quickly backed off from the conversation. He had heard enough, he couldn't imagine what Connor was going through right now. To see one of his people like that, taken away so easily and in such a brutal way, it must've been one of the scariest things he'd ever experienced. It was barbaric. Markus' hands slid from the RK800's shoulders and back to his hands, clutching them. He had to calm himself down too, Connor's confession had his own levels in the seventies, and he felt such a boiling _rage_ run deep inside him. He was sure it could rival North's anger. 

"I didn't even know his name, Markus." Connor added then, voice still as quiet before, as if ashamed of himself. "I chased him down, I brought him in and I didn't even take any time to get to know him, to _understand_ him. I didn't pretend to care, but I doubt he believed that I truly did." 

"Connor, we didn't know enough about the virus--we still _don't._ Getting too close to a potential victim would be putting yourself in danger," Markus hesitated, before adding, "As was attempting to interface with him when he was...shutting down. Connor, if you would've picked up the virus, we can't vouch for what would've happened."

"I couldn't just do nothing, Markus! I had to try. For him." 

"Connor, I know. I understand, I do." He said vehemently, "But what you did was _dangerous._ You shouldn't have put yourself at risk like that. Please, promise me you will not attempt to interface with any infected android again. Well, not until we have a better grasp of what we're up against."

Connor mulled over the words, but he eventually nodded, "I promise." 

Markus exhaled a relieved sigh, "Thank you."

The detective seemed confused by the lack of interest in their conversation suddenly, "You don't want to further discuss the implications of this virus?" 

The leader was aghast at how Connor hadn't dropped the topic and was still functioning despite being at ninety percent stress. Either Cyberlife had designed Connor to still be able to function under such conditions or he was really good at hiding his emotions. His LED was cycling a blood red, but he didn't seem bothered by it. Maybe getting what had happened off his chest helped him. Maybe he really was an over-concerned workaholic. All in all, Markus felt horrified at how Connor still wanted to discuss such a troubling topic that could easily send him over the edge--and almost had a few moments ago! Did he have no sense of self-preservation? 

Actually, thinking back to the stunt he pulled at Cyberlife Tower during the revolution, and him vaulting over a balcony, in Markus' _face_ , no less, it was evident that he probably didn't. That was something he would ask him about when they resumed their earlier conversation about his struggles. 

"I'm very grateful you were willing to tell me all that, I know it wasn't easy." He said, discarding his previous thoughts, "We're going to drop this for now, I have enough information on what happened. We can begin to formulate possible causes and solutions another time. I believe we should talk about something else," He swiftly steered the conversation in another direction in an attempt to placate the RK800's still high stress levels. They were now at eighty-three, but he needed them to at least be at fifty before he could let him into the repair ward so he knew he wasn't prone to irrational and unpredictable behaviour. He trusted Connor, obviously so, that didn't mean he doesn't have a breaking point though, everybody does, even Markus.

Connor nodded when Markus didn't establish a topic for them to discuss, leaving it to fall upon his shoulders, "What do the colours represent?" He asked then, indicating towards the various different coloured flowers hanging from the tree branches.

Markus smiled sadly, "Yellow represents happiness, red represents love and compassion, and purple is beauty and strength." 

"I take it the names are of those who didn't make it?" 

The leader couldn't fight his frown as the smile fell, "Yes." 

His sadness must've slipped into his words because Connor didn't press the issue any further. He reached up at each flower with an attentiveness and respect the leader hadn't seen on him before. He was so used to viewing the detective as a capable, helpful and supportive, but also fast, strong and resilient, it seemed to have slipped his mind that Connor could have such a curious and considerate touch as his fingers soothed out any crinkles on the flower's petals and traced across the names. His expression was unreadable and his thoughts locked away only for him to see, but his LED wasn't red anymore, it had shifted to a passive yellow. After conducting another scan, he was glad to see Connor's stress levels had dropped by twenty percent, settling him on sixty-three. It distressed Markus that he had to wait for Connor to get help but it was standard Jericho procedure, an attempt to protect both patients and mechanics, or the more popularised term, nurses. Mechanics made things sound too machine-like, the deviants at Jericho wanted to stray away from such terms that triggered unpleasant memories. 

"You feel safe here," Commented Markus. ' _Even after what happened,'_ lingered on his tongue, but he didn't dare voice it. 

"Yes." Connor responded quietly, "I think it's nice to have a place to remember everybody we lost. I often trouble myself on my part in all these deaths. I find it...peaceful, that I have a chance to come here and apologise, even if their deaths weren't my fault and they don't know me. Even if my words fall on deaf ears."

There was a spike again. Sixty-six.

Markus sensed the conversation going down the wrong path and he was getting concerned on how long they were waiting, so he opted for a different topic that he thought would alleviate this anxiety, "I remember how you, quote-on-quote, according to Officer Miller, _'roasted the shit out of Gavin'._ " The leader let out a small laugh, "It is a memory I ought to replay sometime. It was quite hilarious."

The tiniest of smiles played on Connor's lips, Markus immediately liked the sight of it, "Yes, Hank is still proud of me for it." He then stopped, smile disappearing.

Sixty-seven. 

_What?_

Okay, so he was definitely missing something here, though he would not push it right now. However, Connor had given him a perfectly good topic to talk about, "Speaking of Hank, how has he been?"

Thankfully, Connor's face lit up again and the levels dropped by two percent, "He's good, I'm happy he is. He wasn't the best before I showed up, but we're slowly turning that around for him. I enjoy living with him and Sumo, they're always there for me when I need help." That little smile returned and stayed this time. The LED swirled blue and his levels fell to fifty-seven. That was quite a big feat, he'd remember Hank was a good topic to calm him down if needs be in the future. 

Now Markus was the one whose stress levels ticked upwards, "If you have any problems, you know you can also come to me, right?" He asked, concernedly. He thought back to earlier, he hoped Connor hadn't been 'slipping away', whatever that meant, or harbouring any negative feelings he wasn't sharing. 

"Yes, Markus. I believe my body knew that before I did." The statement alluded to what had happened with the AP700, but Connor's smile didn't falter, neither did his stress levels. In fact, he was looking at the leader with a reserved warmth that Markus felt special to see on him. He returned the same sentiment and was happy to see Connor's levels at fourty-nine percent.

"Let's go to the repair ward," He offered, standing up from his sitting position. Connor agreed, getting up as well and following him down one of the bridges. 

Once they entered the ward, they were instantly bombarded by concerned stares, most of them probably worrying as to why their leader was in Jericho's hospital and didn't want to see him hurt. That's when Connor realised that all eyes were on him, even so, they still held the same concern and compassion. Then he also realised that he was still wearing thirium stained clothes and still had some on his face. That's why they were all looking at him as if he'd grown two heads. It was still strange to him though, he was the former deviant hunter, why weren't they all cowering in fear like other deviants? They even looked like they wanted to help him. Yes he aided the revolution significantly, but he didn't see himself up there with the other leaders, he didn't deserve these concerned or admiring looks thrown his way. 

"I'm going to need you to stay calm there, Connor." Markus' hushed voice came from in front as he moved forward to the reception desk.

"Why? My levels are average, they're at fifty-two." 

"Well, average isn't good, but it's better than critical levels," Markus shook his head, "We have a policy of stress levels at fifty or lower here, unless it's an emergency. It's to protect patients and nurses. I know today hasn't been easy, but I just need you to tone them down to at least fourty-nine otherwise we can't get you looked at." He said softly.

At such pressure being exerted on him, his stress did the opposite and trickled up to fifty-three.

"Think about Hank." 

"Okay." He answered instantly, and his thoughts went to the lieutenant and his dog. He brought up images of them both, smiling and playing and replayed funny memories, feeling the tension begin to fade from his body. He scanned himself and found his levels at fourty-six. It was such a simple thing, and yet he felt proud of himself for being able to do it despite the horrible things that had been thrown his way. Markus seemed pleased with the result because he started talking to the lady behind the desk. He booked them an urgent appointment due to the uncommon occurrence of Connor vomiting his own thirium and the leader wanted to know if this was something they had to monitor and be concerned about. 

A few moments later, an AP700 strolled around a corner and up to them, their assigned nurse. Connor felt his thirium freeze in his tubing and then he felt nothing. There were voices, Markus' mouth moving in front of him and his hands on his shoulders, shaking him, but he couldn't make out what he was saying. His stress had skyrocketed and all he could see was the mangled body of the infected AP700 slumped over the table in front of him, hearing him screaming at Connor to help him, _to let him give him the virus._ Then, he was being dragged forward and pushed into a white room, gently set down on an examination table, sitting upright on it. His senses came back one by one, his optics focused again on the leader perched in front of him, he could feel the table's surface on his palms as his hand gripped the edge of the table. His auditory units came back last and he could finally hear the two androids in front of him.

"Connor? Can you hear me?" An all-too-familiar accent called out to him and Connor felt his fingers curl. It came from the AP700 who was currently situated on his right. 

"Yes, I'm sorry, I don't know what happened." 

Markus hadn't said anything yet. His eyes darted from one android to the other, and Connor could see the cogs turning in his head, slowly piecing things together.

"Your stress levels are at eighty-nine percent," _Wow, what happened to fourty-six?_ "I would advise you try to calm down before we start," The nurse offered him kindly, but Connor didn't hear any of that kindness. In fact, the detective wasn't sure if he registered any of _his_ words. 

_If you want to help me, let me do this._

_I'll die if you don't!_

_I don't have that much longer left!_

_Please!_

Markus finally spoke, "I understand this goes against procedure, Alex, but I need you to tell me if vomiting thirium is a bad or uncommon trait in deviants." 

The AP700, or Alex, as Connor had just found out, appeared jarred, "Markus, I cannot disclose any medical information when the patient's stress levels are above fifty percent. You know this," He sighed earnestly. 

Connor felt weird about being called a patient.

"I do." Markus breathed, "Alex, Connor's had a really rough day, okay? I can take care of him, as I believe he will be more comfortable with me, but you just have to give me the necessary information to allow me to do that. I'm asking for one question, please." 

Alex sighed reluctantly, "It's not unheard of, but it's not exactly common either. I've only dealt with about seven cases. Most of them said it was in response to an extremely distressing situation where they needed an outlet of emotion of some sorts, it can also be done as a form of self harm. Judging from what you've told me, I don't believe his case is the latter."

"Self-harm? How?" Connor inquired, avoiding looking at Alex. 

"Forcing themselves to throw up thirium as a means to cope." The nurse looked sullen, "I'd rather not get into the details. I answered your question." He said, slightly fearful for what would happen now that he'd bent the rules. 

"Thank you so much, Alex. I promise you what happened today will not be repeated to anybody." Markus said.

Alex's shoulders fell in relief from their tense posture at Markus' words, he then turned to Connor, "Just make sure to monitor how often you end up expelling thirium. If this was triggered by an event, it's probably a one-off situation, though if it continues it might become a problem." 

Connor nodded minutely and Alex took that as his queue to leave. The leader faced Connor with a culpable expression. 

"I'm so sorry, Connor, I didn't think--I knew most of the nurses here were AP700's, I should've warned you. I know the situation is still so fresh." His voice was filled to the brim with disappointment. At himself. 

"It's not your fault," Connor quickly amended, "Neither is it his. I just saw him, and all I could see was that other AP700...dead on the table. I don't know, I think he triggered that memory for me. It's been coming back to my mind ever since it happened. It's not his fault. I'll get over it, but you're right, it's still raw and it scared me quite badly." His pride took a hit at those words, but in front of Markus he felt like he could admit to anything and the other wouldn't judge him for it. Markus laid a hand on his upper arm in reassurance.

"Considering Alex won't be looking over you, we don't have to stay here. We can go to my office if you want," He offered.

Connor politely declined, "I should go back to Hank. I just up and left him at the DPD and he's probably worried about me right now--"

"Send a message." Markus shrugged.

Connor eyed him, "I could advance more on the virus with him. The DPD may be temporarily closed because of today's events but I can still make progress at his home with him." 

Markus sighed when Connor wasn't getting the hint, "Connor, I'm not allowing you to go back to work today. I know it's very important, but I want you to get your mind back on track, this isn't easy. I've noticed how you have been distant from us at Jericho, and also quite reckless, so I just want to spend a day talking with you. And with what happened with Alex, all of this is very new, to me and you both. I just think you would benefit from having a friend there to help you get through it," He spoke sincerely.

Connor felt like a deer in headlights, so Markus had known he was distancing himself. He didn't choose to bring it back up though, "Reckless? I'm not reckless." He insisted, even though his own voice sounded weak in his ears.

Markus looked at him incredulously, "Connor, the last time I saw you, you jumped off a balcony right in front of me." 

Okay, yeah, that probably didn't look too good.

"Promise me you _also_ won't do that again." But Markus knew Connor better than that, so he corrected, "At least not in my face, rA9 Connor, you really scared me." 

"I'm sorry, it wasn't my intention. I'll try not to," 

"It's not a promise, but I suppose that's all I'm gonna get, right?" He teased with a light-hearted smirk.

Connor felt his lips turn up into that smile again.

Maybe spending a day with Markus wouldn't be so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was actually going to be different, ended up being this and pretty dialogue heavy. I planned that the entire Jericrew would show up and they would all talk about what happened at the DPD, but then I slept on the idea and was like: 'yeah no,' and deleted 1.5k words of writing. Then I wrote nearly 6k words of this. 6k words of angst, fluff and a bit of bonding between our boys. Yeah, you're welcome ;)
> 
> Let's build some relationship between Connor and Markus. Throw a bit of angst in there too. Enjoy it, there'll be plenty more where that came from. ❤ Also, North, Josh and Simon will show up eventually, among other characters. :)


	6. Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if the flow of this absolute MONSTER chapter (8000 words wtf, longest chapter i've ever wrote) is a bit funky, spent a lot of time cutting out certain dialogue and replacing it without affecting the following paragraphs. Doesn't feel like my best chapter, but it's to a semi-decent standard. It's too hot where I am to be able to concentrate D:

It was almost midnight when Connor returned home. As instructed by the leader himself, he had stayed at Jericho for the day talking to Markus and helping out where he could. The leader had spent a good deal of time offering support and comfort to Connor, hoping to relieve him of the troubles that had been plaguing his mind the past couple of days, though Connor was reluctant to give up too much information. It wasn't a matter of distrust; he didn't want to burden the leader with his multitude of issues and concerns, surrounding the case _and_ his deviancy, when he already had enough to worry about. They still hadn't found the culprit or a way to stop the effects of the virus, and the consequences of both were disastrous. Connor had seen first-hand the horrific capabilities of the foreign infection and it was a case that required all of his time--if they rested for even a moment, the virus could strike again, and they could have more android deaths on their hands. The detective was thankful for Markus' concern, he really was, he only wished they could've spent their time together a bit more productively, Markus had been more keen on evaluating Connor's mental state than discussing the virus. As guilty as he felt, he had to admit it had been nice to take a day to console himself before returning back to the field of work, hopefully with a different perspective on how to handle the case. Right now though, his mind was devoid of any solutions.

He used the key Hank had had made for him to let himself into the house. At the sound of the abrupt slam of the door closing, Sumo was up and bounding over to him, awaiting pets expectantly as he pawed at the hem of the denim jeans he had borrowed from Markus, along with a paint covered, tan-coloured sweater. Connor crouched down and awarded Sumo a generous stroke of the head and a scratch behind his ears, the dog's tail wagging happily at the sight of the android. He stood back up and noticed Hank sitting on the couch with a tablet in his hand, glancing up at the television every now and then to watch the highlights of a past basketball game. Upon hearing Connor's footsteps, the man hung an arm over the back of the seat absentmindedly and craned his neck in Connor's direction, tilting his head down and looking at the android over the thin reading glasses situated on the bridge of his nose. Hank flared his nostrils as he eyed the detective up and down, taking in his appearance. 

"What time do you call this?" Hank gave a little shake of his head, picking up the remote to switch the television off. Connor fidgeted on the spot, pulling the sleeves of the sweater over his hands and suddenly finding tugging at the threads a lot more interesting than the conversation at hand. He attempted that awkwardly charming smile and doe eyes, the 'puppy-dog' look he usually gave Hank when he wanted something or was trying to avoid getting into trouble.

"Sorry, Hank. I spent the day at Jericho with Markus." He explained, taking his shoes off and placing them by the door neatly before he joined Hank on the couch. He didn't really feel like explicitly telling Hank about what they had discussed and the encounter with the AP700 nurse, knowing it would only succeed in worrying the man further. 

Hank huffed and shot him an annoyed look, "Yeah, Connor, I gathered that. Just wish you would'a sent me a message or somethin' telling me you wouldn't be back till," He shrugged the sleeve off his wrist and peered at his watch, "11:45 pm. Sumo damn near had a fit when you didn't come home with me." At the sound of his name, the gentle giant hopped up onto the couch and sat between the two of them, his head laying in the android's lap. Connor's fake smile fell, only to be replaced with a more genuine one as he took to massaging his fingertips across the dog's scalp. 

"I know, I should've. Time just escaped me, I guess." His tone held a solemn edge to it, one Hank picked up on in an instant. 

"Hey, don't give me that," The lieutenant said with a wave of his hand, referring to the android's evident disappointment in making Hank worry, "But yeah, whatever, leave _all_ the work to the old man." He joked flatly.

Connor's brows furrowed, "Hank, I wouldn't do that to yo--" 

"I know, I know, I'm just messing. Anyway, what's with the clothes?" Hank indicated.

"The thirium stained mine, so Markus offered to wash them for me and allowed me to borrow some of his clothes as a substitute." Connor secretly dreaded returning the sweater, the fabric was soft against his skin and, despite it being a little oversized, was the comfiest clothing item the detective had ever worn, it was a welcomed change from his dress shirts and suit trousers. It also held a soothing scent; the slight harshness of paint accompanied with a strong, but not overpowering, fresh cologne that smelled of the outdoors, the calming vigour of crisp petals and pasture. 

The lieutenant scrolled through his tablet again, he had the case file open and was working on it, much to Connor's surprise, "Speaking of that, you're alright, yeah?" He asked, reaching over and patting the android's shoulder reassuringly. Connor masked his unease with a nod.

"Right, now that that's out of the way," Hank announced, adjusting his glasses once more, "What in the ever-loving _fuck_ happened at the goddamn precinct?" 

When the lieutenant came to help him in the interrogation room, he didn't have any time to survey the situation before he was dragging Connor out by his arm, therefore his knowledge of the scene was scarce. The gravity of Hank's words sunk in and Connor steadied himself with a deep breath, pacifying himself as he mentally prepared himself for the confession. Considering Markus had started to help him heal from the event and come to terms with what happened not being his fault, Connor was sure telling it again this time around wouldn't be as distressing. The implications it had for the case were far more worrying. 

"To put it simply," Connor leaned back and crossed a leg over his knee, clasping his hands in his lap, "The virus causes androids to self-destruct. He burned alive, thus causing the smoke." It didn't feel any easier to say those words, even with Markus' intervention. At least his stress levels were at forty percent this time.

Hank stared at him with a mix of concern and shock, "Jesus. Androids can just do that?"

"His biocomponents heated up to a dangerous degree," He explained monotonously, hiding his vigilance surrounding the subject, "Normally, our software prevents us from reaching such extreme temperatures that could cause irreversible damage, hot or cold, but clearly the virus is capable of overwriting that." Already sensing Hank's next questions, he continued, "He said he didn't have much longer left, if he didn't complete his objective, he would die. This leads me to believe that the host has a set time limit to execute their orders otherwise they will be destroyed." 

Hank ran his tongue across his teeth, "What was his objective?" 

It took a second longer than it should've for the android to reply, "To infect me." 

With a frustrated sigh, the lieutenant pulled his glasses off and rubbed at the corners of his eyes with his thumb and index finger. Seemingly sensing his mild irritation, Sumo manoeuvred his position so he could paw at Hank's chest, snuggling closer to the man and offering comfort to him. Hank humoured the dog, reaching out and petting him for a moment before turning back to his tablet and jotting down the necessary details into the file. Hank mulled over the information supplied to him, and Connor calculated a brief increase of his stress levels.

"Fuck, you're a target then?"

"Potentially," Connor said, "It would line up with him not resisting his arrest." 

"Great, just what we need." Hank grumbled. Connor could feel Hank's hope for the solving of the case dwindling and he didn't want the lieutenant to spiral down into his past ways of self-doubt. The silence weighed uncomfortably in the air, so the detective attempted to change the direction of the conversation for his partner, aware that this particular topic of discussion wouldn't be well received if Hank wasn't in his best state of mind. For them to make any progress on such a bizarre case with no leads as of late, they had to be at the top of their game.

"I didn't expect you to still be working at this time," He said softly, "Maybe you should head to bed, Hank." 

Unexpectedly, Hank snorted, "I'm not tired, and I've been working all day, believe it or not. Thought I'd try and get us back into Fowler's good graces again." Connor tensed at the mention of their captain.

That's right. When Connor had been escorted by Markus to Jericho, Fowler was ticking like a bomb about to go off. It probably didn't help that the only witness to what happened in the interrogation room had been dragged away from any scrutiny and the responsibility to save face fell upon his older partner's shoulders. The detective didn't have any defence to make, all that came out was a mumbled: "Oh shit..."

His partner only let out a loud guffaw at his reaction. Though Hank knew Connor was a goody-two shoes in the workplace and he would take this hit hard, so he reassured, "Nah, don't worry. At most, he'll chew your ass out and give you a disciplinary warning," He could distantly hear the cries of Connor's spotless record, "I've been on the receiving end of Jeffrey's wrath more times than I can count, believe me, the guy's more bark than bite." 

Connor squinted, "That might be true, but I don't remember you nearly _destroying_ the precinct, Hank." He buried his face in his hands, feeling his stress start on a steady incline. His thirium pump began to thrum louder in his chest. 

The lieutenant rolled his eyes, "Jesus, Connor, it was a bit of smoke--"

"The building had to be evacuated!" 

"Whatever, point is, _'destroying the precinct'_ is a bit of an exaggeration, don't you think?" Connor grumbled at that, "It's not like you rigged the android to set on fire. Look, shit happens, alright? Fowler ain't gonna beat your ass for something that wasn't even your fault." He paused, "Well, save for the fact you were in an interrogation room by yourself--which even _I_ agree is stupid--but that's the extent of it. He can't do anything now though, precinct's closed for tomorrow to make sure everything's safe." 

Connor pulled his hands away to cross them over his chest, "Chris is the one who let me go in unauthorised, considering the android wasn't responding, he thought if it was just me and him he would speak to me."

Hank swatted the android's arm lightly, "You little snitch," He laughed, and now it was Connor's turn to roll his eyes, "That doesn't surprise me, though. Chris, ever the android empath since Markus saved him." 

Just from the mention of the leader, Connor's eyes had unintentionally lit up, his brown hues sparkling in the dimness of their living room, "Yes, Markus is a good man." Hank quirked a brow, hyper-aware of Connor solely picking up on the subject of Markus instead of their fellow officer. A fondness Connor wasn't even aware he was showing. The android added, "He helped me a lot at Jericho today."

Hank swallowed, returning to his earlier question, "You sure you're okay, now?" Before his partner could respond, he quickly elaborated, "Not just with the case and that android. With your deviancy, your emotions--all that shit." The lieutenant himself wasn't good at these subjects, and he was no therapist, but he knew all-too-well how easily mental health can deteriorate when you bottle things up.

The android took a moment to ponder the question, eyes gazing up at the ceiling, "I'm not sure how to describe how I feel," He frowned. Connor was still clinging on to that fear from earlier, the image of the dead android had settled into his mind and set up shop there for the time being. And yet, he found if he attempted to block it out or thought of something else, that dread subsided a little, and he felt...numb, neutral. Nothing overly bad, nothing overly good. That didn't mean the memory was purged however. It still lingered.

Hank gave a slow nod despite the lack of clarity, "What about the anger? Seems like that's toned down a bit."

Connor found he hadn't experienced any angry outbursts since the both of them investigated Jericho, he hadn't been exposed to many angering situations per-se, only unpleasant ones. It was strange; he thought he'd have more outbursts due to the stressing nature of their current case, the kidnappings and deaths of his people. Then again, the detective wasn't really fully there when those attacks happened, it was like he had a whole other side to him he wasn't in control of. He couldn't predict or pinpoint exactly when these emotional outbreaks poured out of him, and who he directed them at for that matter, they just sort of _happened._ When he came to from them, he couldn't remember why he was enraged in the first place, but he was aware of what he had said and done in that moment of fury. He was lucky he hadn't hurt anybody so far.

"I don't know. I hope so, but I'm still worried about the potential damage I could cause." 

"Well, so far you haven't, and I'll make sure you don't." The lieutenant said with an air of confidence that almost made Connor believe him, "You tell Markus about it?" 

"It didn't come up." Connor said abashedly. If Hank picked up on the evasion, he didn't mention it. Connor quickly steered the conversation away from that topic, "I have a meeting scheduled with him and the other co-leaders tomorrow at 10am."

"Maybe you can tell him after, then." The lieutenant offered with a shrug. 

"Maybe," He echoed, "Anyway, I think it would be beneficial I save a copy of the case file so far to show them, they need to know what's happening." 

Hank sighed, "It's an on-going investigation, Connor--," 

"They're the android leaders, Hank. They're aware of the disappearances and Markus is already informed of the events at the DPD, but they still don't have enough information. They can't address their people or take any precautions with the virus if they don't have a comprehensive grasp on what it does." He protested. 

"--so we'll have to keep the information scarce," Hank finished with a small grin; of course he didn't mind bending the rules for Connor, it definitely wasn't the first time he'd done it. He passed the tablet over to the android, "Here, do what you want with it."

Connor's skin peeled away on his hand, revealing the white exoskeleton beneath. He placed his palm against the screen of the tablet, taking a second to survey the information and make any necessary adjustments to the case file before he saved it into his data banks. Once finished, he passed the tablet back to the lieutenant, who was doing a poor job at suppressing a yawn. 

"You should rest, Hank." Already Connor was on his feet and approaching the kitchen, going to make his partner a glass of water.

"Okay, mom." Hank groaned, standing up and stretching his stiff limbs, his back creaking in protest as he steadied his palms against it and applied pressure. 

The detective felt a twinge of irritation at the term, oh, two could play that game. He then mimicked Hank's voice perfectly, adopting a soft, condescending tone, _"Alright then, let's get you to bed. Do you need me to tuck you in too? Read you a bedtime story?"_

The flash of surprise on Hank's features was well worth possibly ruining his pride with his little performance, "Okay, you little shit, _I'm_ the parental figure in this relationship," The lieutenant then grabbed his glass and turned on his heel, heading for his bedroom. 

"You're the one who called me mom."

"Shut up, Connor." The android's faint laughter was nice to hear, albeit at the lieutenant's expense. Hank entered his room, only to exit it again and peer out through the gap in the door, pointing a finger at the android, "And you, you're going to sleep too." 

"Technically, androids don't sleep." 

"Yeah, but you recharge, right? That counts as sleeping in my book." 

"The correct term would be stasis."

"Potato, potata," Hank mumbled, "Go into _'stasis'_ then. If I find you on the floor with Sumo again, I swear to God," He then silenced all protests by shutting the door.

Sumo trotted up beside Connor, peering up at him with excitement. The android gave his scalp a good ruffle, "Guess we should do what he says, Sumo." He pointed at the dog's bed and Sumo complied, settling down in it next to the television, cuddling up with his favourite toy; a teddy bear with floppy ears and a red pouch on its belly. It was barely holding on, with fluff falling from the stitching and teeth marks embedded on each limb, but that didn't seem to bother him. Connor watched him thoughtfully, maybe he could buy Sumo a new toy as a present for being such a good boy.

Connor sat on the couch, starting the process of slowing his systems down one by one until he reached stasis. Stasis was akin to a 'clean-up' measure, where his diagnostics would scan each system and determine if it was in need of self-repair, making sure everything was running smoothly with his hardware. It also touched upon certain aspects of his software, such as memory and any self-made programs, though software couldn't be self-repaired easily and required thorough maintenance at Jericho if the damage was severe. Tonight, Connor decided to prevent his diagnostics from examining his memories, reluctant to risk the possibility of today's events haunting him in his 'dreams', for lack of a better term. His recall would be sluggish in the morning, but it was better than suffering through the long night.

* * *

Connor gently knocked on the door to Markus' office. A moment later, a muffled "Come in!" came from the other side, and he entered the room to find Markus sitting at his desk, doodling on a sheet of paper. When the leader heard the door creek open, he glanced up from his drawing to flash a tender smile at the detective, using his hand to gesture to the cushioned chairs in front of his desk. Connor sat on the one furthest to the right, clasping his hands in his lap as he returned a small smile. 

"North, Josh and Simon will be here shortly, they're just finishing up down at the infirmary and nursery," Markus explained, returning his attention back to his drawing.

"You have a nursery, here?" 

Markus nodded, looking back up at Connor with an analytical gaze, one he was unfamiliar with, "It was Josh and North's idea to build one, so the children had a place to learn and make friends. It was more of a measure to protect them and give them a safe and familiar place to stay, we all hold strong opinions towards those who used to abuse child androids." 

"You're right," Connor gritted his teeth, fingernails gnawing at the fabric of his clad dress pants, "It's _disgusting_. Humans deserve _no pity or mercy_ for what they've done." In an instant, Connor had shifted. His voice was laced with venom and his LED flushed red, the leader's eyes darted back up towards him, that analytical gaze gone and replaced with one of surprise--it was subtle, but it was there nonetheless. Markus set his pencil down and stared at him, _really_ stared at him, taking in every minute change in his usually calm and cool exterior. Those blazing auburn irises, behind them hiding the sinister pre-constructions of vengeance and violence, tightened fists that promised pain every time they would collide with flesh and bone, bruising and beating, a clenched jaw that held a million words, never to be voiced to the victim, the only sound would be of their gasped cries as life faded from them. Errors blared on Connor's HUD, a multitude of new objectives popping up on the left, right and centre of his vision. Screaming at him to accomplish his mission. To inflict pain and suffering. To make the humans _pay._

"I agree with you," Markus said with an appeasing tone, surprising the detective, "What they did is inexcusable, and they will spend the rest of their lives in jail to pay for the damage they've caused."

"That's not good enough," Connor said suddenly, bringing his fist down upon the wooden desk, "The _scum and filth_ ," He said the insults with such vehemence and resentment it scared Markus, "who commit such vile crimes don't deserve such a _pathetic_ punishment. They deserve _worse_ than that." 

The leader watched him closely, schooling his own features to not show how shaken Connor's words had made him, "Any worse and we're no better than the humans, Connor."

Then, Connor let out a small laugh, different to his usual light-hearted one, this was a dark and melancholic sound, "As if it's difficult to be better than them," 

Markus said nothing. 

The silence that accompanied his words seemed to reel Connor back into reality, his LED swirled yellow and he glanced at everything in the room except those piercing two-toned eyes, he fumbled over his speech, "I'm--I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me," He tried to defend, startled and embarrassed that he had experienced another emotional outburst. What made matters worse was that it had occurred in front of the deviant leader himself, who was already concerned with the detective's mental state. He discarded all the objectives he'd created during his frenzy, blocking out any unpleasant thoughts that still remained in the back of his mind. Markus still said nothing. 

Perhaps he was giving Connor the benefit of the doubt for his upheaval of emotions, concluding that the detective was merely stressed about the virus, and him working so hard to solve it had amplified his negative feelings, so he didn't see the need to lecture him about his emotional tendencies. Perhaps he was so disappointed and appalled with Connor's words and mannerisms he had been stunned into silence, unsure on what to say or do, afraid of the moment escalating into dangerous territory. Maybe he agreed with his methods. Probably not, Markus was a pacifist through-and-through; if anything, he would nip these violent impulses in the bud immediately, to prevent the detective from acting on such actions that would have irreversible consequences for the public opinion of androids. And yet, nothing. 

Until, "I don't know either." 

It felt like a stab in the heart. Markus gave away nothing with his tone, it was matter-of-fact, confident, and that caused the feeling of disappointment and regret to hang lowly above Connor's head, a cloud of doubt and adversity that refused to subside. It was almost as if some god above took pity on him in this moment of humiliation when the door creaked open once more and the three co-leaders of Jericho entered, oblivious to the suffocating tension all-too-comfortably residing between the deviant leader and the ex-deviant hunter. The two in question seemed to retreat into emotionless masks to prevent any questioning or speculation; hiding Markus' deep concern and Connor's distress. 

"Sorry we're late," Josh greeted politely, the three of them sat down and looked towards their leader expectantly. There wasn't any time to make friendly conversation, it was evident that the leaders were all high-strung and stressed due to the virus, they didn't want to divert any time away from addressing the cataclysmic virus and Connor could respect that. He didn't take it to heart, all of them were on good terms despite his past as the deviant hunter. Josh and Simon had treated him as one of their own instantly, they weren't fazed by his origins and appreciated that, though his missions were to capture and interrogate deviants, he hadn't done so, except for Carlos Ortiz's android, and even then, he was kind and protected him from Gavin. When he returned on the android liberation day with an army of deviants that he'd freed from Cyberlife Tower, their respect for him only increased tenfold. North, on the other hand, had been hard to win over at first. She was cautious and apprehensive, and she had every right to be. Her detrimental past had left her with warranted trust issues, and she had no problem with extending those over to Connor when she was aware of the deviant leader joining their inner circle. However, when she weighed up all that Connor had done for them; defending her and Markus on the freighter, infiltrating Cyberlife, aiding the construction of New Jericho and always providing them any insight regarding deviant cases down at the DPD, she realised he was not only a well-trusted ally, but a friend as well. He'd been a bit distant as of late, yet whenever North had been finding her anger becoming too much and breaking down, on numerous occasions, Connor had been the voice of reason for her. And not once did he disclose any of these situations to anybody else, respecting her privacy. She was extremely grateful for that, and for him as a person.

The more time Connor spent with her, the more parallels he could draw between them.

Markus' gaze fixated on Connor a moment longer before he cleared his throat, an unnecessary action for androids, "It's alright. Now that we're all here, we can discuss the future of Jericho," 

"Future of Jericho?" Simon repeated.

"Yes," Markus confirmed, exhaling forcefully through his nose as if his next words pained him, "As of right now, Jericho isn't safe. The fact that even with Cyberlife's equipment and technology we still suffered an infiltration by a perpetrator we have no information on is scary. We have 24/7 surveillance on the tower, and somebody still managed to sneak in and steal away our people. That is not something we can just gloss over,"

North spoke with an exasperated tone, "We'd never just 'gloss' that over, Markus. But you said it yourself, we have no information on the person who's done this, so for now we need to lay low and protect our people here, we don't have any other alternatives." 

"Lay low?" Josh echoed, bewildered, "How is laying low going to solve anything when it's already evident that the culprit can just weasel their way in here and take whatever, and whoever, they want? We failed to protect those that are gone, how do you expect us to do that now?"

"Oh? What do you propose we do then, smart guy?" She hissed, Simon placed a calming hand on her shoulder whilst Markus fought the urge to bury his face in his hands. Every meeting they had, these two always managed to have a quarrel. 

"We make a statement and inform our people of what's happening, warn them to look out for and report anything out of the ordinary. Of course we'll protect them North, but we can't keep them out the loop. They need to know what's wrong so they can protect _themselves._ " Josh said, correcting his tone to sound less accusatory, he didn't intentionally want to upset North. 

The answer seemed to satisfy her mood only a little, she countered, "Okay, so we tell them what's wrong, which will probably cause mass panic, and tell them to look out for 'anything out of the ordinary' when we don't know," She held her hand up and started naming points off her fingers, "Who did this, how they got in and how they took _fifty_ of our people within an hour at most." 

Simon seemed almost afraid to voice his agreement with the ruthless North, "I agree, we can't determine what classes as unusual if we lack the knowledge of what happened," 

Josh sighed at that, "Yes, but it's better to warn them than for them to be easy targets because of their benightedness," North and Simon didn't seem to dispute that, leaving the conversation hanging in the air.

Markus finally piped up, truth be told he'd been preoccupied with his thoughts surrounding Connor instead of devoting all his attention to the topic at hand, "We'll make a statement to our people, even if the response is less than ideal," He declared, eyeing North as he did so, "I also agree with North's point, we need to protect our people as much as we can, strengthen the defences we already have at Jericho and make any adjustments if necessary." Connor perked up at that, and Markus glanced at him.

"If I may?" The leader gave him a nod, signalling yes, "I have a few ideas that you could implement to not only make Jericho structurally safer, but to have more control over who exactly is getting in and out of this place," All of them immediately zoned in on Connor's words, "For instance: Markus, when we went to the server room, there wasn't any voice authorisation to access the elevators. This means that there is potentially evidence of a break-in _anywhere._ And...worst-case scenario, the culprit could still _be_ hiding in Jericho because they have access to every floor in the Tower." Connor felt the horror dawn on every one of them, especially Markus, whose eyes had widened to the size of dinner plates and he shook his head in weak denial.

The detective quickly spoke up again, unwilling to let the others linger on their misjudgement and blame themselves for too long, "So, the first thing we should do is establish vocal authorisation in all the elevators." Markus had grabbed another piece of paper and was scribbling notes down on it. He could've just made objectives on his HUD, but he liked the feeling of a pen between his fingers, giving him the ability to create, even if it was something as trivial as notes, "We could also extend the same authorisation to individual rooms and facilities to ensure nobody who isn't a part of Jericho can get in."

"Creating voice authorisation for every single member of Jericho could take awhile though, whilst we're preoccupied with that, we could be vulnerable for another attack," Simon pointed out and Connor nodded thoughtfully.

"This is plausible," He began, his fingers itching for his coin, he had a habit of using it when he was in a discussion and laying out his thoughts, "However, all you would need is a small sample from each person. It doesn't have to be much, the system will recognise their voice no matter if the floor request differs. It's also not a job that entails all of us to be present, it's a small task, taking one person to supervise at most." Simon seemed satisfied with the explanation, mumbling an 'okay'. 

Markus tapped his fingers against the wood attentively, "We'll schedule for all members of Jericho to provide us with a vocal sample when we're done here. We'll also do a thorough sweep of the entire building." The leader's gaze remained on the detective, out of intrigue or worry was beyond Connor, "Any other ideas you have?" 

"We need to employ some sort of a security or defence team," He proposed, "We know now that security cameras won't stop the culprit from entering, so we need a physical approach to preventing any unwanted access to Jericho. The only problem would be finding androids that are willing to apply for this position and are strong enough to endure any possible altercations."

"It's a good idea," North agreed, "We'd also need someone to lead this security team, though."

All eyes landed on Connor again.

"If you're up to it, Connor, the position is all yours. You are best suited to lead them," Josh gave him a reassuring smile.

The detective couldn't help his saddened sigh, "I'm afraid for now, I'll have to decline. I think for the substantial future, they should answer to you. With my job at the DPD already occupying a great deal of my time, especially with trying to decipher the virus and locate the missing androids, I'm not sure I would have the willpower to balance both of them. If the situation at Jericho escalates any further, even with these additional measures, I will take up the position and do what I can." 

"Of course, we don't want you to overwork yourself," Markus agreed all too quickly. Connor felt something stir inside him.

"We have a few TR400 androids staying here, they're built tall and strong enough for construction work, they could possibly be a good fit for security," North pondered.

"You said they were designed for construction work though, they might not be the best security," Josh argued. 

"Yeah, well, most androids aren't built for security," North retaliated with a bored tone, "My point is, a place that looks heavily guarded by these guys might be enough to deter anybody from possibly trying to enter in the first place. If anything does go down, there's enough of them to take on any threat that tries to break in. They are able to contact us as well, so by that time we'll already know that we're under attack." 

Markus checked over his notes, written in a cursive style that was unique to his model, "Okay, I think that should do it for defensive measures. We need to discuss this virus and its effects." 

"Firstly," Connor interjected, "Did you find anything when you inspected the damaged server?" 

"Nothing," Simon said dejectedly, "We couldn't repair it or interact with it because of the virus still being present in the system. We removed it and have stored it in maintenance for now, but we're not sure what to do with it." 

"Keep it," The detective ordered, "Don't connect with it for now. If worst comes to it and my investigation makes no progress, I might have to connect with it to garner a sample and be able to analyse it's code and effects." Josh, Simon and North all seemed dubious and concerned about his idea. 

The leader, on the other hand, fully gaped at him, "You can't be serious." 

"It might be the only way if I--"

"Connor, you _know_ the consequences of the virus, and you're saying you're just going to sacrifice yourself if it means solving the case?"

"I am willing to do that if it means saving our people, Markus." Connor said with vehemence, startling Markus. They stared at each other. 

North cleared her throat, peeling their attention away from each other, "Mind telling us what the 'consequences' of this virus are then?" 

Connor's eyes fluttered as he sent all of them his condensed document covering all aspects and information regarding the virus so far. Once they all had the file opened and were mentally examining it, he began to explain, "Due to a lack of a sample from the virus, my theories are based primarily off of inference, none of the following information is objective and is subject to change." He established first and foremost, "From what I've observed, this foreign virus is stronger than the deviancy virus, it reverts the android to a machine-like state and gives them new objectives they must complete. I interrogated an AP700 and..." His confidence faltered momentarily before he recovered, "He told me that he didn't have much longer left," He could feel the co-leaders confusion even if they didn't voice it, Markus remained collected, "Afterwards, he self-destructed." He decided to spare them the gruesome details.

"Oh my rA9," Josh mumbled into his hands, bringing them up and covering his face.

"This alludes to there being a possible time limit for an android to complete their current objective. If they are prevented or obstructed from doing so, they will self-destruct. As I reviewed the events in more detail," He noticed Markus tense in disagreement with such an idea, "I realised that the deviancy virus isn't completely overrode by the new virus, considering the AP700 was able to provide me some information about what was happening to him, albeit not much. Strong emotions, like panic, can provoke deviancy to temporarily take control again, but by then it's already too late." He finished, giving the others time to process the information he'd given them. 

North's voice was morose, very uncharacteristic of the usual eccentric fighter, "...What can we do?" Josh offered her a sympathetic look at hearing her so hopeless. 

Markus was quick to offer reassurance, voicing his solutions, as well as Connor's, "If the virus reverts androids to a machine state, we'll have to look out for any unusual behaviour. We're all aware of how machines act, and in a place full of deviants, it should be apparent if someone has the virus."

"That's going by the assumption that those with the virus are out in the open. If this was always the case, we'd surely have noticed our people disappearing the other night," Simon chipped in. 

"But even if we spot those with the virus, we can't do anything!" North raised her voice, standing up from her chair and pacing behind them. "You heard it yourselves, if we don't allow the android to complete their objective, which is probably getting as far away from Jericho as possible, they die. If they run out of time, they die. We can't stop this." 

"Maybe not right now," Josh comforted, his voice was weak and stressed too, like he didn't believe what he was saying, "We will stop this though, I mean, our freedom wasn't bought in a day," 

The WR400 scoffed at him, "Our freedom was bought with the blood of our own, how much did we have to spill to get where we are today? I guarantee, by the time we find a way to stop this virus, we would've spilled double, maybe more." 

Connor calculated a large jump in Josh's stress levels, "Y'know, North, your constant pessimism really isn't helping." The PJ500 grumbled, rising from his seat as well. Nearby, Markus groaned and Simon cast an apologetic look towards Connor. 

"Oh, would you like some optimism?" North chided, invading the taller man's personal space, "Okay, I am _positive_ that _thousands_ of our people will die before we figure out a solution to this virus because we can't do _shit_ about it. Is that better for you?" 

"North, I swear to rA9--"

"That's enough!" Markus bellowed, standing up and slamming both his palms down on the desk. Four pairs of eyes landed on him, and North and Josh parted instantaneously. Connor conducted scans on everybody in the room, all of the leaders stress levels were peaking at seventy-percent. The detective hoped Markus could deescalate the situation for everybody's mental sake. His stress alone was at fifty-nine, but that was because he had expected this response. It must be hard on all the leaders to know they currently didn't have a way to stop people from dying. "I understand the situation we've found ourselves in isn't pleasant." He then pointed an accusing finger in Josh and North's direction, "Do you honestly think that fighting amongst ourselves is going to do anything? All we're doing is wasting time when we should be trying to find a solution." 

"What solution?!" North shouted then, "There is no solution, Markus!"

"So we keep trying to find one!" The leader yelled with the same volume, shocking everyone into silence. Markus' gaze landed on a rather restless looking Connor, who stared back as if questioning if all the meetings normally went like this. The detective had partook in a few in the past, though this was his first recent one, and they'd never been this bad before. It worried him to know that the leaders were clouded with their own problems and it could affect their decision making, particularly when they were deciding for millions. 

"...I think we should take a break," Simon placated, rising from his chair and heading towards the door. It was phrased as a question, in reality it was a command as he used his arm to direct North and Josh towards the door. North cast a sombre and sorry look towards Connor. 

"Fucking gladly," She cursed, storming out, the thump of her resentful footsteps echoing down the hall. Markus dragged a hand down his face and Josh followed in North's example, exiting with a little more dignity, apologising for any problems he caused and taking his leave. 

Simon addressed the other two left in the room, "Sorry that things panned out this way. Thank you for your information, Connor, hopefully next time we meet it will be for more friendly matters," He attempted to be optimistic, but even he knew that wouldn't be the case. The detective still appreciated his kindness. 

"I hope so, too. Take care of yourself, Simon." 

"You too, Connor." 

Simon then departed, leaving the leader and the detective in the room all alone again. The tension from earlier crept back in and settled between them, though it wasn't as troubling due to Josh and North's argument also lingering. Connor hadn't attempted to leave even though the meeting was over, and Markus hadn't told him to. They seemed content enough to sit in silence with one another, both making sense of the situation that awaited them. It wasn't until the leader's stress levels hit eighty percent that Connor took action. He couldn't let Markus' mental status escalate any further. 

"I won't lie to you, this case will be difficult to solve," He said quietly, Markus' gaze found his once more, "But I have no doubt that with your continuous supportive leadership and my tendency to bury myself in work," His remark caused a small smile to graze the leader's lips before it was gone in a second, "We will be able to stop this virus before it harms anybody else. I'm confident that we're doing the right thing, Markus." 

_That's just the thing. People are already being hurt as we speak._ Markus thought. He shoved it away, North's pessimism was getting to him. Still, Connor's words were soothing. It was amazing how he could switch from being as cold as ice, to as sweet as honey in such short time. His stress levels dropped back down to seventy, and he rose from his seat, Connor mimicking his movements as a sign that he was to leave. "Thank you, Connor. You don't know how nice it is to hear you say that." 

"You don't believe it, though." 

Markus smiled sadly, how easily the detective could read him, how willing he was to show him this vulnerable side and not hide his distress, like Connor had done for him, "I don't. I will, soon enough." He corrected, "It's just a lot of information to process right now." He felt quite overwhelmed as all his priorities seemed to come crashing down on his shoulders. Leading Jericho, protecting his people, creating new defence measures, his people dying, worrying about Connor and what the _hell_ that shift in personality was earlier. He slumped forward, the mental strain making him physically sluggish, and Connor braced him by the forearms to steady him.

"You should go into stasis and calm down," He said softly.

"At least let me walk you out," Markus countered, displaying a smile. A smile suited him more than his anger moments ago, and if he was relaxed in Connor's presence, he would relent for now.

"As long as you promise to go into stasis when I leave." 

Markus sighed, "I need to--"

Connor held up a hand, already knowing Markus' argument, "Let me rephrase. You begin making the defensive adjustments with Simon, North and Josh, and _then_ you go into stasis to avoid overworking or stressing yourself."

"You're not in any position to be telling _me_ not overwork myself," The leader teased, trying to make light of their earlier situation. He was thankful for Connor's undying concern for him, a trait they both seemed to share towards each other. He felt the pressure on his shoulders fade gradually. 

The detective sighed, "Okay. You promise not to overwork yourself, and I won't either."

"Look, we both know we can't promise that." Markus laughed.

Connor, despite everything, laughed a little himself, "You're right, I yield." 

"But, how about: I'll _try_ not to overwork myself, and you come to Jericho at least once a week." 

Connor was puzzled by the request, "What? Why?" 

"Well, let's just say I am rather intrigued by your words earlier." Markus pointedly avoided specifying what he was talking about. He had to know if Connor's emotional outbursts were something he did consciously. "Maybe we could benefit from meeting up and talking, like we did yesterday. I enjoyed it."

"I did too, but...what do you mean?" 

Now, the leader frowned, "When we were discussing the nursery? You seemed to change into a completely different person." 

Then worry and misery appeared, Connor made an effort to quickly dismiss the topic, just like he did with Hank, "I don't know what causes me to do that--okay, yes, I will meet up with you at least once a week to discuss...that, if you so desire to, or whatever else. In turn, you uphold your end of the deal." He retreated back to his usual confidence now that the spotlight wasn't on him, "You're our leader. In trying times like this, you have to be confident and strong, people will look towards you for hope and reassurance. Stressing yourself out and not being at your best doesn't inspire faith among our people." 

Markus felt concerned about the sudden dismissal of his questioning. He let it go, Connor was right, "I'll try." 

"If it ever gets too much, you have my contact."

"...Thank you, Connor." 

The two then left the office, walking side by side down the empty hallway. The awkwardness between them was gone and replaced with a new-found feeling of comfort and dependence, knowing they now had each other to rely on if things got too much for either of them. Markus always held respect and admiration for Connor, but he refused to get close like they were now out of fear that the detective was just another one of his blind followers; those who never questioned and simply went along with whatever he decided to do. His fellow co-leaders treated him like this to some extent, they bickered over choices and the right thing to do for their people, even so it didn't change the fact that as soon as Markus walked through their doors on that freighter, they looked up to him like some sort of saint. Despite what he chose at that church, they all agreed to follow him, pacifism or violence, it didn't matter. What they obviously forgot is that Markus is one man. 

Connor never forgot this. He never treated him like this. Maybe it stemmed from them both being RK prototypes, and it took someone incredibly analytical and intelligent to point out any possible flaws in his plans or the way he ran things. Markus knew the detective looked up at him as a leader too, but he held him on the same level of respect as everybody else. He wasn't treated differently because of his status among the deviants. Connor wasn't afraid to tell him to stop working or to take some time to himself, because even as a leader, everybody has their limits and needs to cater to. North and Josh, even the kind-hearted Simon, had never told him to stop overworking himself. They hadn't even noticed he ever _was_ , because they hadn't bothered to take him off of the pedestal they all sat him on. The people of Jericho viewed Markus as an android that had no flaws, no problems, never needed to rest and console himself, like some sort of _machine_ that had no chance of failure. When in reality, he was just as bound for failure as everybody else. Nobody saw that.

Connor did. 

That's why, even with all the new responsibilities weighing on top of him, he can still flash a smile, a genuine one, not one crafted from forgery. It's because he has Connor walking next to him, keeping him grounded and reminding him to take care of himself, exactly like he'd done for the detective yesterday. It was almost funny how they could both dish out the same advice, and yet they both never took it themselves. When the other told them to do it though, they did. Because they knew it would help. They were bound like a magnet, on different ends of different spectrum, but when one didn't work, neither did the other. A push and pull mechanism; keeping each other grounded and focused on their health and future, reeling each other back to reality when life became too tough to bear. It was amazing how, in such a short space of time, the two had became reliant on each other, even if they both didn't voice it. 

They exited the elevator, landing them on the bottom floor. Today, the Jericho memorial tree had a few children and adults sitting under it, though their behaviour was a bit more timid than days prior. They were obviously hyper-alert and waiting for anything unusual to happen so they could book it back to their living quarters. Markus could feel himself getting sucked back into that sensation of despair and he fought it hard, repeating Connor's words in his head: _"In trying times like this, you have to be confident and strong, people will look towards you for hope and reassurance."_ He couldn't afford to look just as scared as them in front of his people, so he threw on a smile and a wave when he passed by them. It seemed to soothe them for now, a few of the children waved back and the adults relaxed from their stiffness.

Then, it happened. The two of them were just nearing the large exits, and Connor was about to turn to bid the leader goodbye when an android came barrelling between them, stumbling them out the way and continuing forward. No apology, no hesitation. Like a machine. Brown collided with green and blue. Connor immediately recovered from the sudden contact and trailed after the android, calling out to him: "Excuse me, sir? Is everything all right?"

The man stopped instantly at the sound of Connor's calm voice reaching his ears. His LED churned red and he stood, paralysed, as he processed something unknown. In a second, he had turned around and was lunging past the detective for Markus, a deactivated hand surging forward and trying to make contact with the leader's wrist. Connor was faster, he tripped the man, forcing him to sprawl face first onto the white tiling below. Before the detective could get any closer and apprehend him, the man drew a gun from his belt. 

And then he pointed it at Connor.

Markus wasn't thinking when he stepped forward and shoved the detective behind him, holding a hand out towards the prone android and saying in a gentle tone, "Easy there, it's okay. You're in Jericho." 

"Markus..." Connor whispered, "He's infected."

"I know."

The android's LED blinked frantically, cycling through a wheel of colours, blue, yellow, red and back to blue, only to repeat the same pattern ten times every second. It looked like he was malfunctioning, similar to how the AP700 had acted when he was about to self destruct, and Connor grabbed Markus' arm to yank him backwards. That was all it took. That slight movement. The need to protect a friend. A caution they had to take. That was all it took.

The android shoved the barrel under their chin and pulled the trigger. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of Jericrew: sad, worried and stressed.
> 
> Markus and Connor: casually flirting to de-stress. the best medicine.
> 
> then i throw that ending at you. ❤
> 
> \--
> 
> Hank in reading glasses. You can pry this headcanon from my cold, dead hands.
> 
> Also for some reason my favourite line in this is: 'He could distantly hear the cries of Connor's spotless record', idk it was funny to me. ;D
> 
> Sumo's favourite toy is actually based off of my auntie's late dog, who had this one teddy she always laid down with without fail and if you tried to take it from her she'd start growling, which sometimes you'd have to take it from her for a second to get her to move considering she was a big dog and always liked to lie down in doorways lol. She'd never hurt a fly though. God was that toy in absolute ruins, but she was so cute with it. Such a lovely girl she was.
> 
> It's 2am btw, so I'll fix typos in the morning :)


	7. Memory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rewrote this twice, also finished it with a headache, so I apologise if there are more mistakes than usual. :)

The shot left a deafening ringing in his ears, white noise and static overloading his auditory processors as his motor functions broke down inside of him, feet gluing themselves to the marbled floor. Another deep rumble barely registered in his ears, the muffled sound of screaming reverberating all throughout the tower. There was a blur standing in front of him, a dark shape he couldn't make out, his vision too blurred and unfocused to comprehend who it was or what was happening. Then, that shape was rushing forward, towards the other outline that was limp on the ground, a blend of black and bright blue, and hauling him into his arms, pocketing the firearm that had slipped from the other's grasp. The person then disappeared from his view, and his fingers twitched, wanting to reach out and reign the retreating figure back to him. 

Soon there were steady hands on his shoulders, another pair framing his face. Fingers stretched his eyelids wide, three worried stares checking for any physical malfunctions in those blank irises. Their mouths were moving in fluid motions, familiar motions, they were talking to him, but all he heard was the harshness of static resonating through his being, causing his form to tense. His body was moving, not at his own will, his feet dragged against the marble as the three figures hurriedly moved him along the bridge, towards a facility that he had no recollection of in this current state. The holographic title framing the top of the entrance was indecipherable, but the clinical whiteness that accompanied him when he was ushered inside made him assume it was the infirmary. His mind swam with delirium and his forehead ached, it felt like someone was pounding it with a hammer. Why were they taking him there? What happened to him? Where had the other--supposed--person from earlier disappeared to? 

Several more bodies coated his vision, like he was standing in a guarded crowd, directing him and those steadying him into a room. His body was lifted and set upon a hard surface, a spike coiling through his neck as something was inserted into the port back there, and he jolted suddenly. His processors whirled loudly, echoing in his auditory processors and overwhelming the uncomfortable static, his circuits spiked with an unexpected surge of energy. The power supplied by the cord breathed life back into his motor functions and, one by one, he gained the ability to move his limbs again, his arms and legs shuddering as the functions returned to their usual rate. His systems were re-calibrated all at once and his eyes rolled back into his head and fluttered. After a second, the cord was yanked out of him and he choked out a panicked exhale, sight refocusing and his memories all flooded back to him, the realisation of what had happened moments ago hitting him full force. The death of one of his people. The screams of the children. 

Markus lurched forward, already beginning to manoeuvre his body off the examination table when a firm hand pressed against his chest, preventing him from standing. It was Alex again, offering him a smile as he said, "It's nice to see you've came back to us. Your systems still need time to recuperate, so please remain seated for now." The leader was about to reply when he was quickly brought into an embrace by someone else.

"Thank rA9 you're okay," Simon mumbled. He backed off instantly after, aware that they had an audience in the room, "Sorry, I just--" The man trailed off, embarrassed. Markus strained a smile for him, patting him on the back.

"It's alright, nothing to apologise for." He reassured, pausing to gnaw at his bottom lip, "...What happened to me?"

Another nurse, who'd been typing on her tablet, glanced up, "Your body entered a catatonic state," She began, "Your motor functions temporarily stopped working due to the...distressing situation you witnessed. We had to reboot you manually to wake you up from it." 

"Distressing situation?" North spat, "Call it what it is. It's fucking _murder._ " The nurse shrunk in on herself, timidly turning her attention back to her tablet. She made no attempt to disagree with North's statement. 

Josh placed a tight grip on her shoulder, "North." He warned. She scowled at him and shrugged the hand off roughly, like hell she was going to accept his comfort after their meeting. She did keep herself from spewing any more profanities though--for the nurse's benefit, of course. 

Markus scanned the rest of the room, eyes searching desperately for his only companion who wasn't present. Connor. He must've been the one who disappeared from his sight earlier, the one who took the courtesy of removing the body to prevent further damage to the inhabitants of Jericho. Of course Connor took the initiative in a situation like that, his job as a detective ensured he was able to be the light in dark times, all the while the _'fearless'_ deviant leader fell into a catatonic state and left all responsibility to his friend, who was in the same state as he was, minus the catatonia. Actually, he was more than likely doing _worse_ than Markus. He'd already seen how badly Connor had been affected by the AP700's death and the case as a whole, witnessing another death in such short succession couldn't be helping his health in the slightest. Guilt bloomed within him. He stood from the table, "I'm going to find Connor." 

"That's not recommended right no--" Another nurse tried to stop him, and he held a hand up to quieten them.

"I'm not the only one who needs help here. Thank you for rebooting me, I'm fine for now, but I fear he isn't. I can't have him dealing with this alone," He explained firmly. Markus then turned to his three co-leaders, "Start working on the defensive measures. Josh, I want you to obtain vocal samples from all of our people for authorisation. Simon, I want you to help him, use these samples to create voice authorisation on the elevators and people's rooms. North, find any willing recruits for a defence team that meet the requirements. Understood?" His voice was authoritative and commanding, the three of them nodded, for once not arguing with their orders. Now that the threat was ever-growing and worsening every day, they had to act quickly. Whilst the situation had been catastrophic for Markus, for everyone at Jericho for that matter, it had also been an eye-opener for how grey the future looked for android kind. The leader couldn't afford to waste any time mourning the incident, they could only learn from it and move forward. He left the infirmary and didn't once glance back, his sights set on a new objective. _Find Connor._

Connor found himself on the maintenance floor of Jericho, in one of the many labs situated in the department. He laid the corpse down on the table with shaking hands. Then he started pacing around the table methodically, starting to wear a tunnel into the sterile floor that tapped with every foot he brought down upon it. His stress levels were at ninety percent and his HUD wouldn't stop shouting at him to seek assistance. It was weird how Connor was becoming used to seeing that prompt plastered on his vision. His anxiety was only increasing, every time he tried to cast a glance towards the body, he couldn't hold the gaze for longer than second before he was back to glaring ahead of him again. Connor knew he should fulfil his role as a detective; should analyse what happened in hopes of figuring out more about the virus and in turn how to prevent it, should advance the case now that he _actually_ had evidence, but he can't. It's too much. He can't look down upon the android, whose auburn hair is now stained blue, whose eyes are rolled back into his head, whose face has been completely _obliterated_ by the bullet, destroying any framework in his artificial skull, the top of his head _caving in on itself_ as thirium seeps down the middle of his face, drips off his nose. It stained the white table blue. 

Indignation pulsed within him when he finally forced himself to hold his gaze on the victim, eyes lingering on the exit wound of the bullet. This wasn't suicide. The choices of that android were not his. He was infected by a virus that stripped him of _everything_ and reverted him to _this._ A bleeding mess in his own home. Another tally to add to the ever-growing number of deviants reported dead or missing due to the virus. Is this what all these people fought for in the revolution? Lives, families, hopes and dreams, all gone in the blink of an eye. Without as much as a goodbye. The virus was too cruel to grant them that mercy, their last words would be a death certificate to their friends and family written on a meaningless slip of paper, a name crafted onto a flower and hung upon the tree, a date carved into a stone. This was not the freedom they fought life and limb for. They didn't fight so long and hard to be _murdered_ like this. 

Connor felt the recognisable sensation of something travelling up his torso, and he bitterly swallowed down any thirium that tried to force its way out of his body. Vomiting his own blood was an experience he didn't want to repeat, it was disgusting enough the first time. He was still irate, and his stress levels weren't getting any lower, so he took to fumbling with the linen of his dress shirt, savouring its soft feel between his fingertips, willing himself to focus on its texture instead of the situation he found himself in. He wouldn't be able to handle this current predicament if he wasn't level-headed. rA9, did he hate this case with a burning hot passion. This virus had taken everything Connor knew about being a detective and put it on a shelf far out of his reach. His title as a detective demanded that in situations like these, he was able to function adequately, but here he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. It demanded that emotions _never_ got in the way of the investigation, that they never caused him to act irrationally or question his judgement, yet he's sitting here, _this_ close to _destroying_ himself because he can't get his stress levels below ninety percent. He could feel his pride and reputation slipping through his fingers. What happened to that brave and dedicated detective he used to be? The detective who could _manipulate_ his emotions into getting answers, instead of letting them control his every move? The detective who had quickly rose to being one of Detroit's finest, who had been able to solve long-winded cases that had been passed along from cop to cop, cases that had been sitting in the dark and collecting dust that had been solved by him in a matter of days! Even Fowler, the captain himself, could attest to that fact. What changed him into the _inadequate detective_ he is now?

Connor ground his teeth together, and his fists balled. His stress levels spiked. There was only _one_ culprit for his sudden lacklustre attempts. The one thing that had been the origin of all his problems from the start.

Deviancy. 

When Connor had opened up to Hank about his struggles with deviancy, and his partner had informed him that emotions were hard to control, and were irrational and shitty, Connor had let himself have a sliver of hope that, one day, he would learn to control his feelings and his life would start on a good path again. Well, Connor was starting to think that Hank had been lying to him just to make him feel better. Because it _wasn't getting any easier._ If anything, the detective found his emotions were becoming even harder to control. Perhaps it could be argued that because the case was hitting so close to home, the stress from it was preventing him from being able to fully focus, _'You've been confronted with difficult situations,'_ Amanda's voice echoed in the back of his head. But Connor had dealt with plenty of android deaths before, and they'd _never_ affected him to this extent, in fact, they had been some of his most successful cases. Now look at him, he didn't even have _one fucking lead._ All because he can't tolerate his feelings like some insubordinate child.

His thoughts only pushed him deeper into that hole of fury and, unable to control himself, his fist collided into the wall with enough force to dent the structure as well as the plating in his knuckles. His eyes darted between the wall and his hand, shocked that he had actually damaged something during his rage, his fears coming true. His emotions were making him unpredictable, dangerous, and Hank wasn't here to reassure him he would stop him from getting to this point--like he ever could've, anyway. What scared him the most though, was how the action had _reduced_ his stress levels. Destruction, whether it was of his hand or the wall, had made him feel better. So he did it again.

And again. 

Until there was a shout from behind him, and someone was in front of him, hands outstretched to crowd him away from the now blue speckled crater he'd made in the wall. Connor snapped out of his stupor at the sight of Markus in front of him; the leader had been catatonic a few minutes ago, he shouldn't even be out of the infirmary yet! That apparently didn't bother Markus though, since he then grabbed his hand with urgency, angling it towards the light so he could assess the damage. From his wide eyes and incoherent mumbles that left his lips, too quiet to hear, the verdict was not in his favour. Despite the several errors tarnishing his vision, Connor didn't think the damage was that bad, he'd only punched a wall a few times. He got the desired outcome anyway; his stress levels were now at fifty percent, his only regrets were regarding the damage he'd caused to the building. That wasn't of his concern at the moment though, Markus shouldn't be up and about so soon after recovering from catatonia. He pulled his hand from the leader's grip with a little more force than necessary. 

"Markus, what are you doing here? You should be in the repair ward!" 

Markus gawked at him. 

The leader gripped Connor's wrist and shoved the damaged hand close to his face, "I'm the one who should be in the infirmary? Connor, _look at your hand._ " He said with a quiet growl. 

Connor forced himself to focus on his hand, planning on just humouring the leader, until the realisation of what he'd done sunk in. His nonchalant exterior visibly cracked, and Markus let go of his wrist so Connor could support his limp hand with the other, turning the hand over so he could see his knuckles. Oh, he could definitely _see_ his knuckles all right. His porcelain skin had faded completely from his hand, showcasing the burn mark as well as his white exoskeleton. The plating on his fingers was discoloured and dented, thirium staining the underneath of his fingernails. He then attempted to stretch and move his fingers, only to find his hand shook violently and jolts of electricity scurried up his arm when he did so. He glanced up to meet Markus' disapproving gaze.

"What were you thinking?" He scolded gently, his arms crossed over his chest as he levelled Connor with an intensity he hadn't been expecting. A glare that demanded an answer.

"It made me feel better, okay?!" Connor responded louder than he intended. Markus' attitude changed immediately, overwhelmed with shock.

He lifted Connor's limp hand from where it had fallen at his side into view again, "Doing _this_ , made you feel better?" He asked in a quiet voice, afraid the detective would confirm his suspicions. 

Connor grasped the implications of Markus' words, "No, no, I promise you it's not like that--"

"Connor, you knowingly inflicted damage to yourself to relieve stress." He punctuated.

"I--I don't see why it matters! It lowered my stress levels from ninety percent to fifty, it worked!" 

"But look at the methods you used to achieve that!" Markus countered, silencing his friend. Connor didn't respond, a ghost of a frown appearing on his face.

"You shouldn't stress yourself, Markus. Your systems still need time to recover." 

Markus almost scoffed at the absurdity of Connor's response, "You do understand that seeing you do this to yourself _will_ stress me out, don't you?" The detective deflated, and that guilt swelled more in the leader's chest, "Connor, you know this isn't healthy, or a good way to cope with stress." He soothed, trying to lower the tension that had encased the room. 

"I do." He sighed, "I couldn't control my emotions, I _can't_ control my emotions," He corrected, clutching his forearms, stroking his thumbs along them as he refused to look Markus in the eye. "I was so angry, I didn't know what I was doing, and I ended up punching the wall. I would've stopped there but...I found that destruction lowered my stress levels, so I kept doing it. I didn't even realise what I was doing to myself." He finished quietly, disappointed in himself.

"You were angry earlier too, weren't you? Before the meeting when we were talking. That's why you said what you did." 

"Yes," Connor confirmed, still looking down at the space between them. 

Markus felt his artificial heart being pulled in his chest at seeing the usual eccentric detective so glum, "Connor, look at me," He placed a hand on his shoulder, "I'm not mad. I could never be mad at you for something you're not in control of," 

Connor's sorrowful brown orbs met his then, a gleam of interest in them, Markus pressed on, "How long have you been having these struggles?" 

Connor pressed his lips in a tight line, "Since I deviated." 

The leader felt saddened by the news, but he'd be lying if he said he was surprised. Everything felt like it was clicking into place. Why Connor had hardly responded to any of his messages, why he'd distanced himself from everyone at Jericho, because he was fighting an internal battle that nobody knew about. It seemed so much death and suffering had only accentuated these already dark thoughts and feelings. Markus felt disappointed in himself. Was he really that bad of a companion, that Connor didn't see him fit enough to confide in? Had he really been this blind, that he simply let Connor get on with his life without frequently checking in on him even when he had suspicions that something was wrong? He couldn't hide his shame, "Is that why you stopped coming to Jericho?" 

"Partly," Connor mumbled, he failed to continue. His body seemed to close off at the question, so Markus took that as his queue to back off from the topic. Connor didn't show any indication he wanted to elaborate on his deviancy--at least he had trusted Markus enough to tell him as much as he had now. For that, he was grateful. This was something they could discuss further at their weekly meet-ups. 

"Well, as much as I hate to ruin this moment," He attempted to joke, which fell flat at the severity of his next words, "Maybe we should address...him." He gestured to the corpse on the table.

Connor dug his nails into the fabric covering his arms, deep enough to feel the plastic straining under the pressure, "We should reactivate him." Markus looked at Connor like he'd grown two heads. Already knowing the leader's answer, he continued with urgency, "Yes, Markus, it's dangerous," He said wryly, "But you have to understand I have _no evidence._ This is the first body I've actually been able to analyse."

"But that file--"

"Like I said, it's all based on inference. Hank and I haven't found _anything._ The AP700 hiding in the server room? A scapegoat, dead. Got nothing out of it. The missing androids? No evidence of a struggle, nothing on the security footage. No perpetrator, no sign of where our people left from." Connor scowled at listing all his failures, "This could actually be my chance to _learn_ something, I understand it's immoral, but I have no other choice." 

"You're not asking for my permission, are you."

"I'm sorry," Is all he responded with as he moved over to the opposite side of the table and deactivated his fingertips on his functioning hand, reaching towards the android's colourless LED. When he was about to connect with it and run a system scan, Markus' hand enclosed his wrist again. Connor was touched by his concern for him, but the leader had to learn to have a little faith in him. 

"Markus," He said slowly, "I've done this before, you can run diagnostics on deactivated androids and evaluate their system status. All programming and coding is disabled. I won't get the virus this way. You know this." 

"S-sorry, you're right, continue." 

Connor connected to the android, "I'm also connecting to _his_ system, he's not connecting to mine, meaning he can't pass me the virus anyway," He added, in an attempt to calm Markus further. The report he received of the android's state was not ideal. The android was identified as a WJ700 model and nearly all the biocomponents in his face were destroyed, meaning he wouldn't be able to provide them any verbal information. Connor exhaled wistfully, it was going to be awful for the android to have to experience having no sensation in his face when he reactivated him. He could fix him up before he did so, but it would be a waste of supplies and he couldn't give the android too much leeway as soon as they started functioning again. Connor was already a hand down, so if the infected WJ700 attacked him, he could be dominated in a fight by him easily. He trusted Markus wouldn't let that happen though.

"His face is barely functioning," Connor withdrew his hand, "He won't be able to talk to us. I'll have to probe his memory to get anything out of him." 

Markus turned away from the table and dragged a hand down his face, "Fuck," It wasn't often that the leader cursed, but when he did, it meant shit was really about to hit the fan. Connor knew he heavily disagreed with his idea, then again he wasn’t asking for permission here either.

"I don't want to do it either, Markus, but--" 

"If I see anything unusual happen on the outside, I'm severing the connection." He spoke directly, leaving no room for arguments. He moved over to stand next to the detective.

Connor was caught off guard by the sudden authority, "That's fine, it's the safest way to do it. We should immobilise him just in case," 

"He's already been shot in the head. Let's not make it any worse for him." He said with the same emotionless tone.

But Connor was already grabbing one of the android's hands, looking apologetically at Markus, "I hope you can forgive me for this. You know why I have to do it," Without hesitation, he then twisted the WJ700's wrist, snapping it backwards and letting it hang off the side of the table. He did the same to the other wrist. Markus looked away as he did so, not objecting to it but not agreeing either. Connor knew it hurt to do something so cruel to one of his people, this was a caution he had to take though, he couldn't risk the virus reactivating in the android and forcing him to try and connect with either of them. Now that both wrists had been snapped, the android had no mobility in his hands, so they could move on to the reactivation. 

"Because he's badly damaged, I'll only have a minute at most to probe his memory. His face is still leaking thirium internally, I'll be as quick as I can. I won't prolong his suffering." The leader still wasn't looking at him, so he reached out and touched his arm lightly, "I promise, Markus." 

Markus barely settled his hand above Connor's before he let it fall again, a silent touch that showed he trusted the detective, "Do what you have to, but as soon as I see something even slightly off, I'm pulling you out of there," He repeated, "Understood?" 

"Understood." Connor let his skin recede from his palms once more, lifting up the thirium stained shirt until the WJ700's torso was exposed. He placed his good hand on his abdomen, peeling back the synthetic skin and applying a little pressure against the exoskeleton, forcing the plating to shift upwards and then to the side, showcasing the various wires and glowing biocomponents. He glanced to his right, directing an unspoken warning to Markus to get ready. Considering he was temporarily one handed, Markus had to grab one end of the severed, thick cable in the centre of the android's abdomen whilst Connor got the other, and they connected both ends together. 

As expected, the android jostled awake, petrified, and attempted to make sense of his situation. It must've been terrifying to feel your body come back from the dead, but still only seeing pitch blackness. Connor didn't give the android any more time to panic, he and Markus both withdrew their hands and the detective instantly grasped the android's flailing arm, the victim stilled completely as Connor forced his way into the android's memories. 

As soon as he entered the android's memory, he was bombarded by various glitches and errors; the WJ700's memory bank had been corrupted beyond repair due to the bullet destroying his mind. Connor waded through any irrelevant memories that were thrown at him, filtering out for the most recent ones to be presented to him. He avoided making contact with any memories that were too bugged to view, he wasn't sure if any traces of the virus could be lingering in the files. He eventually scanned the fresher memories, and replayed one that showed the dark interior of a building and the outline of a disguised shadow blocking the android's vision. Connor focused in on the memory harder, trying to identify whoever it was in the memory, but his report came back blank. He knew the perpetrator was an android, considering they were passing the virus individually, so why was Connor unable to identify their model and serial number? Connor felt static vibrating through his body, Markus would sever the connection any moment now, so he transferred the memory into his own data banks, just as he felt a electromagnetic pull and he was shoved back into the world. The android deactivated as soon as he was out.

Markus' hands were on his shoulders, and before he could reassure him he was fine, the leader commanded, "Run a diagnostic." 

Connor could've refused, only machines had to obey that order without fail, but he did it to appease Markus' stress levels. His eyelids fluttered as he scanned each system, "Biocomponent #8456j damaged, all other systems fully functioning. No traces of the virus." He added. 

At the mention of the damaged biocomponent, Markus' eyes flickered to his battered hand, he didn't comment on it. Instead, he asked, "Did you find anything?"

Despite how uncivilised the situation had been for them all, especially the poor WJ700, Connor actually granted himself a small, relieved smile. "I found a location Markus, and someone I couldn't identify. I've saved the memory to examine later, I'll inform Hank about it and we'll investigate the place as soon as we can." Finally, he had a lead.

The leader's features softened with relief too, and he removed his hands from his friends shoulders. He then solemnly turned to the WJ700, "I'll contact our funeral service to take care of him."

"He'd be proud he helped to stop others from receiving the same fate," Connor comforted. 

"I hope so." 

Connor then turned to leave, off to rejoin Hank, only for Markus to call out his name when he reached the threshold of the lab, jogging to catch up with him. He looked at him with a perplexed curiosity, and Markus commented incredulously, "Your hand?" Connor then lifted his damaged hand and gazed at it like he was seeing something new. Caught up in his sudden respite, he had honest-to-rA9 forgotten about his messed up hand. Some prototype, he snorted. He looked back at the wall which now sported a rather large cavity, the cracks bursting through the plastering. Wow, he was lucky Markus found him when he did. 

"I'm sorry about the wall, I'll pay for the damages." 

Markus started to lead him to the infirmary, and surprised him when he joked, "Damn right you will." 

When they reached the infirmary _again_ , Alex scolded them both for being too accident prone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, there might not be a chapter out this weekend because it's my birthday on Saturday and I want to spend it lounging and doing nothing :) 
> 
> But if the ideas and motivation hits me, there'll be an update on Sunday. ^^
> 
> I also decided to rewrite the summary, cause I didn't like how vague the original was. I just barely obeyed the character limit though. >.>


	8. Bait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Emotional breakdown, nothing too serious or graphic, but please be careful and take care of yourself. <3 Also, more swearing than usual because Gavin's in this chapter lol.

Hank parked his car outside the location Connor had deciphered from the WJ700's memories, a derelict apartment complex that had been long abandoned on the very outskirts of the city. It was hardly keeping itself together, with cracked windows and the absence of a door, overgrowing moss entwining up the cobbled bricks. The appearance didn't exactly inspire confidence, and the atmosphere was even worse--these were the poorest areas of Detroit, littered with criminals and red-ice dealers. The lieutenant surveyed their surroundings, it was quiet, but he knew better than to assume nobody was out there on the prowl. Once he was sure it was as clear as it could be in these parts, he exited the vehicle, checking he had his firearm tucked in his pocket. Connor followed suit. 

Another car pulled in behind his own, Tina and Gavin had accompanied them on their investigation, not too willingly either. When Hank and Connor arrived at the station this morning, Fowler had immediately pulled the two into his office, grilling the both of them--even though Hank wasn't involved--for what happened in the interrogation room and demanding an explanation. Connor had provided one, and Jeffrey understood that it wasn't his fault, but he still got off with a warning for being alone during the interrogation. Afterwards, the detective briefed Fowler on the location he'd found, and the captain instructed they take back-up with them due to the location being too far away to send help if anything went wrong. Thus, Tina and Gavin got stuck with them. Tina didn't mind, she was on good terms with both Hank and Connor, Gavin on the other hand, had cursed up a storm the entire journey--one hour of straight whining--and poor Tina already had a headache coming on. 

"Can't believe I have to fucking babysit Anderson and his tin-can instead of spending my time productively," Gavin grumbled as he slouched into the passenger seat, folding his arms over his chest. 

Tina snorted, "You? Productive? Don't make me laugh, Gav. How many warnings has Fowler given your trashy ass for sleeping on the job?" 

"Not enough if I still get forced to go out on patrols like this shit." His voice shrunk to a whisper, "Jeffrey must get some sort of fucking kick outta torturing me." 

Tina rolled both their windows down as she noticed Hank and Connor approaching their car, the android lingering next to Gavin's side, "I assure you, Reed, the feeling is very much mutual." He said coldly. Connor's tone alone had Gavin's hairs standing on end, but he'd never admit that. Reed craned his neck to glare up at the android through the window, only to be met with hardened and fiery brown irises that would make any lesser man piss their pants. He struggled to suppress a gulp. 

"Shut it, plastic--" 

"Can it, Reed." Hank snapped, retrieving two walkie-talkies from Tina and circling the hood of the car to pass one to Connor. He then pointed at the two, "We'll radio if we need backup. No fucking around, alright?" Gavin rolled his eyes, "I fucking mean it, Reed." 

The detective placed his hands up in a surrendering gesture, he didn't have the energy for one of Hank's lectures, "Alright, whatever, old man." A beat, "Don't go and get yourselves killed. Fowler'll be on my ass like no tomorrow."

All three of them stared at him like he'd just killed their dog or something. 

"What?!" He growled, feeling heat creep up into his cheeks. "Hurry up and get your asses in there so we can leave!" Why were they making such a big deal about it? It wasn't like Gavin _cared_ or anything, he was only looking out for himself. He didn't want Jeffrey to add any more disciplinary warnings to his folder. That's it. Geez, could they _stop staring at him like that?_

Eventually, Hank and Connor disappeared into the building, and Gavin let out the breath he wasn't even aware he was holding, digging his fingers into his biceps. Tina was still looking at him like she didn't know who he was. 

Then, she smirked, "Damn, Gavin, didn't know you had a heart after all." 

Gavin responded by shoving her. 

The sight that greeted Hank and Connor wasn't pretty. The apartment lobby was trashed and barren; chairs knocked over and front desk splintered, the cash registers and shelves behind it had been raided of all their contents. The room held a foul odour, the mingling scent of iron and dirt which originated from the blood-stained carpet beneath them. Hank sucked in a sharp breath before he lifted his shirt over the bottom half of his face, gagging at the putrid smell. Connor was thankful he was an android as he disabled his olfactory senses and switched on his scanners, taking in all the hidden intricacies of the room. His attention was instantly captivated by the large thirium stains that appeared on the carpet, and he bent down to conduct a better visual analysis. Meanwhile, the lieutenant had recovered from his initial disgust and was looking for anything of use to their investigation.

Considering the thirium had faded long ago, he wasn't able to sample any of it and find out which model it belonged to. Now that he thought about it, it was probably for the best, the carpet was revolting and if Hank witnessed him do so, he was sure the man would puke on the spot. The splotches of thirium trailed further into the apartment complex, a messy, weaving path of blue leading towards the elevators a little ahead of them. Connor turned to Hank, "There's thirium leading to the elevators, lots of it." He gritted his teeth, "A lot of androids came through this way." The lieutenant came to stand by Connor's side, observing the carpet as well, though as a human he couldn't see the thirium. 

"Think you can figure out why?" 

Connor's LED circled yellow as the familiar construction grid appeared in front of his eyes, but what was strange, was that no diagrams appeared for him to manipulate. He was able to track the movements of chairs being knocked aside and that was it. No people showed up; it was almost as if someone had completely blocked his ability to pre-construct the scenario. He exited the program and ran a diagnostic over all of his systems, the results showed he wasn't suffering from any errors, so why were his pre-constructions not working? Connor then replayed the WJ700's memory in his mind. Perhaps the android that was present in the memory had done this to him? That seemed improbable though, as Cyberlife's most advanced android, his systems shouldn't be able to be blocked by other models. Connor's hand found his pistol, despite not knowing why he reached for it suddenly. He felt his circuits fire up, and realised this feeling was dread. 

"I can't pre-construct what happened. Something is blocking my system." He told Hank, the lieutenant's hand also went to his gun.

"Like an EMP or somethin'?" Hank questioned. 

Connor shook his head, "If it was an EMP, all of my systems would be offline." He glanced at his partner, "We have no other choice but to follow the thirium." 

Hank normally took the lead in situations like this, but considering Connor was the only one who could see the thirium, he was the one to direct them towards the elevator, pressing the button and waiting for it to arrive. Both of them readied their pistols when the 'ding' sounded overhead, prepared to apprehend anybody that may jump out at them. What Connor wasn't prepared for however, was for the doors to open up and reveal a box of blue. He stopped mid-step and gasped at the sheer amount of thirium that painted over the wallpaper, thick enough for the original colour to be imperceptible. Then there was Hank, unknowingly standing in the sea of blue, wondering why Connor wasn't joining him. "What's up?" 

Connor carefully crept in beside him, "I don't mean to alarm you, lieutenant," He swallowed, "But we're currently standing in a thirium-filled elevator." 

Hank grimaced, glancing around as if looking hard enough would make the stains appear, "How much?" 

"...Too much." 

Hank cursed and began shifting foot to foot, feeling uncomfortable even though he was fortunate enough to be spared the sight Connor was witnessing. The detective took this time to lean in close to the metal keypad, seeing a fingerprint-sized mark on floor seven out of the thirteen available. Despite Connor being used to touching thirium for analytical reasons, he felt icky as he pressed the button, wiping his hand on his clothed thigh even though there were no traces on his hand. That feeling of dread resurfaced, and he found himself clutching the grip of his weapon tight enough for his skin to recede, unable to stand the harsh pressure. Hank's palm lightly grazed his wrist.

"You're good, right?" 

Connor frowned in confusion, "Of course, Hank." 

"You're denting your gun." 

Connor's gaze drifted to the weapon and he lifted it in front of his face, shock adorning his features as he uncurled his fingers from around the grip and found finger indentations on the fibreglass, light discolourations outlining them. He passed the gun into his other hand, focusing on holding it lightly as he stared at the blue metal doors in front of him. Hank's arm found its way around him, rubbing small circles in the middle of his back. It was rare Hank would show such affection, especially on a case, but for him to do so now made Connor realise Hank knew how distressed he was. His touch was comforting, and the detective found his high stress levels lowered from it.

"All of this feels too convenient," Connor said then, clutch tightening around the pistol once more. The lieutenant didn't pause in his movements, simply hummed for him to continue. "The building isn't even reinforced, we were able to walk in easily. Then, we're greeted by a trail that leads us here, and a fingerprint mark on a specific button. Hank, I feel like we're walking right into a trap." 

The doors chimed once more, opening up to the seventh floor. Hank sighed, retracting his arm and stepping out in front of Connor, "Me too, this place gives me the creeps. Stay close." 

The hallway was in the same condition as the entrance, the trail of android blood continued down the lobby and stopped at the very end, where it took a sharp left into the storage closet. The other rooms had their doors slightly agape, all unlocked, but a quick peep through the gap showed them nothing useful, mostly just broken bed frames and knocked over cabinets, the suffocating smell of red-ice lingering in the air. There was no doubt this place had been a dealer's paradise in the past, probably still was, all the more reason for the duo to keep their firearms close. Once again, their only option was to follow the blood trail. Connor didn't complain when Hank quickened his pace so he was walking slightly in front of the android, ready to act as a shield if his partner needed it. 

They reached the end of the hallway, "The trail ends here," Connor said, gesturing towards the steel door of a rather large storage closet. Hank lifted his pistol in one hand and reached for the door knob with the other. He was in the process of turning the doorknob when he stopped at the sound of Connor's shaky exhale behind him. When he turned, he saw his partner cradling his pistol too tight again.

Hank placed a hand on his shoulder, "You need a moment?" 

Connor looked up at him with an unreadable expression, but Hank knew he was antsy. He glanced to the side, then curled his lip as he reluctantly ordered, "Open it." 

The lieutenant did so, he yanked the door open and was quickly engulfed by the overwhelming smell of metal, a seeping black cloud of smoke swirling through the air, blocking their view of the room. The duo took a step back to let the smoke escape before entering, Hank coughed violently as he fanned his hand back and forth to clear the smoke faster. A minute later, the room was clearer, and the two entered, gazing around blindly through the remaining fog, until it all dissipated and everything was visible. Hank gagged at what welcomed him. 

Six androids strung up by their wires along the back wall. 

"Oh my god," He choked out, daring to inch closer to the graphic display. Behind him, Connor hadn't moved or said anything since they stepped inside. He was glaring ahead at the group of corpses with a stone-cold face, seemingly unbothered. To be fair, this wasn't their most gruesome crime scene, but _Hank couldn't see the thirium._ In reality, each body was dripping with it, blood lines streaking down their synthetic bodies, skin long deactivated. It bled from every pore in their body and Connor couldn't look away from the wall. Though not for the reason Hank might think.

Painted in the familiar blue above the display of bodies, in perfect Cyberlife sans font, wrote: _Better luck next time!_

Hank startled at the loud bang of Connor's gun hitting the wall, it had been thrown with such force it made a hole in the plastering where it had connected. It hurtled to the ground, and the lieutenant whipped around fast enough to give him whiplash. Shock flooded through him at the sight of his usually calm and collected partner boiling with rage. Hank pocketed his weapon and started towards the detective with outstretched hands in a placating fashion. Then, Connor's eyes met his. They weren't the usual doe eyes he was used to. They were dark and maniacal, and he stared at Hank like he was conjuring up ways to kill him in the most brutal way possible. All that burning indignation inside was spilling out from the seams and his chest heaved with every unnecessary breath he took. His limbs were shaking hysterically and Hank warily inched closer.

"Connor, you need to calm dow--"

Connor, honest-to-god, _laughed_ at him, "Calm down?! Look at this, Hank," He seethed, holding up his palm to show Hank a projection of the bodies, the twisted message sitting above it, " _'Better luck next time'._ " His voice grew impossibly louder, "All of this death, this suffering--it's all a joke to whoever's doing this. They're _killing my people_ just for a laugh!" 

"We can still look for eviden--"

"Listen to yourself!" Connor roared, shocking Hank into silence, "This wasn't a lead! This was another trap for us, and we fell right fucking into it again!" The detective then turned away from him and looked for an outlet, needing to destroy something, _anything_ , his self-control long gone. He picked up an already broken toolbox that had fallen on the floor, and hurled it at the wall. Shards of metal scattered along the ground.

Connor wasn't expecting Hank to shove him against the wall, pinning him there with his shoulder as the lieutenant's hands scrambled to grip his wrists. He wasn't expecting to try and fight back against Hank either, but found himself doing so anyway, blocking his partner's hands as he tried to wrangle his way out from under Hank's body. Hank pressed back against his struggles, finally managing to catch Connor's wrists and reign them into his chest, clutching them tightly to prevent the detective from hurting himself, "Connor--stop." Connor continued to fight against him, "Stop!" He ordered firmly, and after a moment, wide eyes stared into his. His breathing was still erratic, but he made no attempts to push Hank away this time.

"Now, you're going to listen to me." Hank began, maintaining the same firmness, "On my mark, we're going to breathe, okay?" Connor watched him quizzically, that urge to attack still present in his eyes, "Like this." Hank then proceeded to inhale and exhale, deep and slow. Soon enough, the detective was captivated by this small concept. "Can you do that for me?" 

So Hank counted, and Connor breathed. Shallow and quick at first in contrast to Hank's more controlled and composed breaths, but it was helping. Connor found himself focusing more on steadying his breathing than the new errors and objectives that had formed on his HUD again, the scariest goal being: _Harm Hank._ He didn't know why that objective appeared, and it took everything in his power to not submit to the prompt. He was grateful that the lieutenant restrained him, if Connor had hurt Hank, he would've never forgiven himself. His LED blinked a soft red and he was stabilising, though that animosity was still pooling in his stomach, threatening to spill over again. 

His breathing fell out of sync with Hank's, and the lieutenant gave his wrists a shake, reeling him back from those darker thoughts, "I want you to think about Sumo, or anything else that makes you happy." Hank had been in Connor's position enough times, and despite hating this much sappiness, he had enough experience to know what to say and do during breakdowns like this. The resurfacing of his own memories wasn't pleasant, but he bit the bullet for Connor's sake. 

Instead of Sumo, Hank's words immediately made him think of Markus and the similar advice he had offered in the infirmary to lower his stress levels. At the mere thought of his friend, Connor felt shame fill him, the exact opposite reaction Hank was hoping for. Markus would be so disappointed in him for breaking down like this, especially when he needed all his friends at the top of their game to fight against the virus. Look at him, throwing a tantrum when he should be looking for any lingering evidence like Hank said, he couldn't even get a hold of himself. He was here, trembling like a leaf caught in the wind, needing the lieutenant to calm him down. Cyberlife's most advanced android, right? How pathetic. He should be better than this. Shouldn't be this _weak._

His fingers tried to curl into fists, but were prevented from doing so when Hank adjusted his grip on his wrists, taking Connor's hands instead and looking at him sadly. "Connor, son, look at me." The detective did so, under hooded lids, "I get this entire thing is shitty, fuck, I see my kind murdering their own every day." He sighed, "And I know you wanna fuckin' rip apart whoever's done this," Hank really, _really_ wanted to ignore the way Connor perked up at that, that feral glint glowering brighter in his eyes, "But I need you to understand that you can't do that, that these emotions you're feeling, whilst they're all valid, are _dangerous_ to act upon." 

_'Dangerous'_ , seemed to trigger him to snap out of his anger; the same very word Connor had used to describe himself to Hank before. His shoulders slumped and he let out an exasperated breath, eyes widening as the realisation he'd came to knocked the wind out of his artificial lungs. Connor was turning into everything he feared. _Irrational, unpredictable, prone to violence and harming people._ His eyes darted to the broken toolbox, the metal shards, and dread came rushing back in, but not for the case--for himself, for his deviancy. He looked at his hands, still being cradled by the lieutenant's, and knew the exact way to break from the hold and then fulfil his objective of harming Hank. He thought back to when he punched the wall back at Jericho, how the feeling of destruction was both relieving and utterly _euphoric_ , the sight of his blood splattering against the reinforced material was addicting. Worsening the crater in the wall each time he brought his fist into it was nothing short of satisfying. He wondered if breaking Hank's bones would be the same.

Connor froze as that thought graced his mind without even meaning to, it was instinctual. The thought of hurting Hank was instinctual. He felt sick. 

Then he was. 

It was just as disgusting as last time, and he meekly choked out some thirium, luckily managing to catch it on his chin and dress shirt instead of spewing all over his partner. Hank felt his heart leap into his throat and Connor calculated a thirty percent jump in his stress levels. The lieutenant was then looking him all over for any damage, thinking that him expelling thirium was a sign that he was hurt or dying. It wasn't, like Alex had told him, but Connor thought he deserved that fate for even thinking of ever trying to hurt Hank when all he had ever done since he deviated was support and cherish him. He didn't deserve the man. 

"Sorry," Connor mumbled, voice quiet, "Androids can be 'sick' in response to distressing situations." He explained, wriggling his hand out of Hank's grip, who let him do so this time, to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth. Hank took a step back to give the android some space now that he was calm, and also to protect himself from possibly being puked on. 

"You've got nothin' to apologise for, Connor," The lieutenant sighed, "You sure you're good, though?" 

"Physically, I should be." He said offhandedly. Alex had mentioned to him to monitor how often he was throwing up, too frequently would become a problem for him. This was the second time over the course of a couple of days. Then again, he had been predisposing himself to unpleasant situations that had an increased likeability to trigger this response, so he thought it maybe wouldn't be as serious. He could talk to Alex about it, but his appearance was a horrible memory, or he could talk to Markus, who would only be disappointed in him for being so vulnerable. His hands felt tied. 

Hank seemed almost afraid to reply, "Mentally?" Stupid question--Connor had just barely recovered from a mental breakdown. Of course he wasn't okay mentally.

Connor kicked his feet against the dirtied floor, avoiding Hank's concerned gaze, avoiding the bodies on the wall, "I would like to leave, Hank." 

Hank spared a glance back to the androids on the wall, debating whether or not to escort Connor out or stay behind and see if they could garner any more evidence. It did appear to be like Connor said, a trap for them, so there probably wasn't anything for them to find anyway. Whoever was doing this was cunning enough to lead them all the way out here, they weren't stupid enough to leave them anything worthwhile. This was a mere ploy, Hank only feared the true reason why was still yet to be revealed. The lieutenant retrieved Connor's damaged firearm off the floor and passed it back to him before leading him out.

The walk back to their car was silent. Connor was rigid, a stark contrast to his usual confident aura he carried with him when at a crime scene. The phrase _'Better luck next time'_ reverberated all around his artificial skull, mocking him. Whoever was doing this _wanted_ his attention, _wanted_ to taunt him and break him down; he was a target, or at least a point of interest, for the perpetrator. That fuelled that darkness inside him, and it also scared him. He didn't want the virus, but oh would it be worth it if he could crush the culprit into tiny pieces. Android or human, it didn't matter.

The duo were surprised to see Tina and Gavin standing outside their car, the latter pacing in the snow whilst he complained like he always did. At the sight of the two, Tina smiled, which quickly dissolved into a grimace at seeing the thirium on Connor's collar. Before she could ask if everything was alright, and possibly scold the android for not radioing for back-up, Reed jumped in.

"Fucking finally you two are back," Reed sneered, Connor's eye twitched at the sound of his mocking voice, "And you didn't even find anything. What a surpris--" Gavin's remark died when his eyes landed on Connor, glaring at him savagely, stance on the offensive. The android took a thundering step forward, fully intent on beating the ever loving shit out of Gavin, when Hank intercepted his path, gripping both his shoulders and blocking him from getting any closer to Gavin. 

"Hank, _move._ " Connor bristled quietly. 

"What the fu--"

"Shut the fuck up, Reed." Hank growled over his shoulder. For once, the man did as he was told. He faced his partner, "Connor, what did I tell you? You have to learn to control emotions like this." 

Hank was happy to see Connor's LED cycle back to yellow from the red it had been, and he began performing the breathing exercises the lieutenant had taught him moments ago. It didn't seem to be working as well as before, considering Gavin was still staring and mumbling incoherently, his presence and arrogance amplifying the anger that was trying to subside. Eventually, Connor pulled himself from Hank's grip, stepping backwards and around his partner's body so he could glare at Reed again. Hank was about to intervene, but Connor received a sudden message, and his fingers flew to his LED in a panic.

**_Connor: [Markus?]_ **

**_Markus: [Connor! I need you at Grand Circus Park. It's under attack.]_ **

Grand Circus Park...? That was downtown, and Connor was on the _outside_ of Detroit, he'd never make it in ti--

**_Markus: [Connor?]_ **

Then everything clicked. Why the location was on the very outskirts of the city, in one of the most dangerous areas. Why his systems had been compromised. Why the apartment complex held no evidence, just a mocking caption and bodies that had been dead for too long. Everything had been planned. He'd been lured out here so he couldn't help stop what was happening in Detroit. Whoever did this needed Connor to be out of the picture. Now Connor had no time, no way to help Markus and Jericho against whatever threat was ravaging Grand Circus Park. 

**_Connor: [I can't--]_ **

The leader's voice then fizzled out and turned to static. The severed connection left Connor empty. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a psa, I've had my fair share of emotional breakdowns, panic attacks etc, but I'm not an expert. Don't restrain people in these conditions lol. I only included that because Connor's an android and is strong enough/capable of destroying a lot of shit, people and objects alike, and thus Hank had to make sure he didn't do anything rash. 
> 
> Damnit, Hank, why you gotta stop Connor from beating Gavin's ass (again) like that. 
> 
> Also, text in bold, italics and underlined is androids communicating wirelessly, just in case anyone is confused. :)


	9. Conflict

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Work has been kicking my ass. Wish quarantine would give me another 6 months off lol.
> 
> So much dialogue this chapter oof.

Being a leader was hard. Being the leader of a minority, who had to fight tooth and nail to get where they are today, and _still_ experience discrimination, was even harder. Leaders never had a chance to rest, never had the opportunity to pass the torch on to someone else for a while, it was a constant battle. That's why Markus wasn't surprised when one moment, he was mid-check-up at the infirmary and the next he was at Grand Circus Park, staring down an android riot. North and Josh had alerted him to the scene as soon as they'd caught wind of it, and the three had rushed to the park to defuse the situation. They left Simon in charge of Jericho to prevent any chances of another infiltration. 

The park was under siege, a group of violent androids ravaging and vandalising any aspects of the street they could; shattering car windows and slashing their tires, taking bats to shop windows and bus-stops and anything else that was in their way. The street had been blocked off from both ends by armoured trucks, in front of them posed a line of SWAT soldiers, waiting for the go-ahead. The positioning was tactical, forcing every android into the centre of the park and ensuring all of them would be slaughtered as soon as they started firing. It would be a massacre. Markus wasted no time in making his way around one of the parked trucks and into the centre, North and Josh following his lead despite their unvoiced dubiousness. 

Once in the middle, he held his arms above his head and yelled out to the soldiers, "Don't shoot. We'll--" Markus wasn't able to finish his plea before a circle of androids caught his attention. He examined them closer, and was horrified to find them holding glass bottles, a lighter being passed around. They were lighting Molotov cocktails. They all spread apart once more, mimicking the line the soldiers had formed. Markus heard the sound of rifles being cocked behind him. 

"On my orders!" Their captain yelled out. 

The androids threw their cocktails at them. 

Fire engulfed the soldiers, some were lucky enough to have riot shield to absorb the blow, others panicked as the flames spread throughout their armour, melting away the fibre plating. However, the androids had forgotten about the other line of soldiers poised behind them. The captain gave the order, and Markus was blinded by bright flashes, the sound of guns firing left a deafening ringing in his audio processors. His people fell before him. Despite his people clearly being the attackers in this situation, Markus couldn't let them die like this. Not when they weren't in control. He scrambled for a fallen sheet of metal, deflecting any oncoming bullets and protecting any androids near him. Josh and North were doing the same, scrounging for any make-shift shields. Together, they made a small barricade, covering their people as they dove for anything to hide behind. 

But the efforts of three leaders weren't enough. They weren't able to protect everyone. There had only been around forty androids attacking the park and now Markus could only count ten remaining, including him and his friends. The soldiers weren't stopping until all of them were dead, they kept reloading clip after clip and unleashing an onslaught of bullets towards any android trying to get out of the crossfire. Markus, North and Josh all ran for cover behind the corner of a building once all their remaining people were out of the junction. The bullets didn't stop coming, some even chipped the concrete near the three. Markus was running out of options, and in this moment of desperation, his body seemed to go into auto-pilot. His first instinct was to contact Connor. 

**_Connor: [Markus?]_ **

**_Markus: [Connor! I need you at Grand Circus Park. It's under attack.]_ **

His friend fell silent on the other end. 

_ **Markus:** _ **_[Connor?]_**

**_Connor: [I can't--]_ **

Markus hadn't been paying attention to his surroundings. A soldier rounded the corner with a baton and whacked Markus around the head with it, smashing his right temple and severing his connection with Connor. His systems reacted quickly to the sudden blow and he backed away from the source of the hit. His white chassis shone through the cracked mocha skin and thirium seeped through the small crevice, dripping down his cheek. An error blocked his vision, leaving him momentarily stunned and open for another attack if the soldier chose to take it. It didn't look like he had the time to make that decision though, as he was intercepted by North before Josh and Markus could stop her. Her foot made contact with the soldier's helmet and, whilst he was dazed, wrenched the baton from his hands and beat him mercilessly with it, landing strike after strike on his helmet that was beginning to crack under the pressure. The man fell down, and North made quick work of straddling him and continuing her ruthless beating. 

The gruelling sight of blood staining darkened glass snapped Markus out of his trance, and anger boiled through him. "North!" He roared, startling the female. North's grip lessened around the baton, but before she could drop it and retreat from the mess she'd caused, Markus and Josh's arms were around her, lifting her off her knees and dragging her away. The soldiers crowded their fallen teammate, who was now a motionless body on the sidewalk. At the sight of the three disappearing around the next building, they fired a few stray bullets, hoping to hit them on their way out. Some shrapnel struck the wall near them, but no casualties were caused. 

They were now out of sight again, Markus and Josh released their grip on North. Markus took a moment to examine his systems, gathering the information about his now damaged communicators, lifting two tentative fingers to lightly dab at the thirium still leaking from the dented plating. Meanwhile, Josh was fuming. He turned on North, jaw set and eyes piercing as he lifted both his arms in the air and all but yelled at her, "What were you thinking!" 

North looked at him incredulously, "I wasn't just going to stand there and watch him beat Markus to death!" 

"You can't do shit like that," He growled, "You're a co-leader, a face of our people! What message are you sending to the humans if you retaliate like that?!" 

"They attacked us, Josh!" 

"You went too far, you nearly killed him!" 

"He was going to kill us!"

"Stop, both of you." Markus groaned, a hand now cradling his forehead. Their arguing had done nothing but cause the pounding in his audio processors to worsen. Thankfully, they heeded to his command, albeit a little reluctantly on North's part, lips pursed together as she bit back her rebuttal. Markus looked at them, heaving a sigh, and continued, "North, I know you did what you did to protect me," She scowled, already sensing the 'but', "And I am grateful for that, _but_ you can't give the humans any more of a reason to despise us." 

She scoffed, "Despise us?" A breathless laugh, "You really think I would've attacked him regardless of whether he attacked us first?"

"That's not what I'm saying--"

"That's exactly what you're saying!" She countered loudly. "Yes, I hate humans, but I wouldn't provoke them out of the blue. I know what they're capable of," Her voice lowered, "He was going to kill you, Markus. What makes you think he was going to stop after the first hit? I did what I had to do, I don't care if you agree with it." 

"It's not about whether I agree with you or not." Markus emphasised, "Our relations with the humans are still shaky. We've came a long way, but the fight for our freedom isn't over yet. _It does not_ matter if they attacked first, they will focus primarily on what _you_ did because you're an android. Why do you think the SWAT opened fire on our people immediately? _Because we're androids._ " 

Josh found his voice again, "He's right, North." That accusatory tone was back, "I give it a day before your actions are plastered all over the local news." 

North stared at them, agape, before letting out a derisive guffaw, "And what, they just ignore the bodies in the middle of the _fucking street?_ You really think they'll care more about me beating _one_ _soldier in self defence,_ compared to the _slaughter_ of forty of our people?"

"Yes!" Markus responded exasperatedly before Josh had the chance to. "North, they were destroying the park, then proceeded to throw Molotov cocktails at the soldiers! They were reacting to a threat _._ " 

North stared at him. She pinched her brows together and straightened out her shoulders, "So you're saying their actions were justified."

"No!" Markus gasped, horrified at such a claim, "They didn't deserve to die like that--I'd never justify that." He quickly amended, voice hitching in his throat, "You have to understand, from a human perspective, the androids were destroying a renowned park in Detroit and didn't stop even when the SWAT showed up. Instead, they attacked them. When the media gets this story out, there will be mass panic, and people will go back to hating and fearing androids," He began pacing back and forth.

North eyed him, still upholding the same scowl, though she now understood Markus' concerns now that they weren't shouting at each other. Josh stepped forward and placed a hand on Markus' shoulder, stopping his anxious pacing, "Staying out here worrying isn't going to solve anything. We'll get back to Jericho and hold another meeting with Simon and Connor to discuss what happened." 

"Where was this moral high ground minutes ago, Josh?" North mumbled under her breath, Josh shot her an annoyed look, "Hypocrite." For once, Josh bit his tongue to avoid snapping back, instead letting out a tired sigh. North could have this small victory. 

At the mention of Connor, Markus dug through his systems again, trying to reestablish a communication with the detective. Deep down, Markus felt relieved that Connor hadn't shown up during the carnage--his lack of self-preservation would've probably forced him to run smack-bang into the middle of the crossfire to either attack the soldiers or save the androids. With how he'd been acting recently, Markus assumed it would be the former. "I can't get through to Connor, my cognitive systems are damaged." 

"I've notified him to meet us at Jericho," North said. 

They were silent the journey back to Jericho, Markus and Josh lingered behind an indignant North who raced ahead of them. It was better to let her blow off her steam now rather than risking possibly getting the shit beaten out of them when they got back. Josh could testify; he'd been on the receiving end of North's infamous punches one too many times. Still, as Josh watched North's retreating figure, guilt bloomed within his chest. Yes, she was wrong to nearly kill the guy, but she did it in defence of their leader. Josh shouldn't have chastised her for that--North did what he couldn't. The question of whether he would've let Markus die in that situation haunted the back of his mind the entire journey back.

The three didn't know what to expect when they got back to Jericho, but two black, foreign vehicles parked outside their entrance wasn't it. North groaned loudly whilst Markus and Josh were a lot quieter with their apprehensiveness. Markus didn't linger on them for any longer than necessary, he led the way inside, his two co-leaders loitering behind him. Upon entering the tower, they were greeted by a meek looking Simon having trouble with two humans. From the sound of their loud voices, they were definitely accusing the poor blonde of something, and the latter was having trouble deescalating the tension between them. Markus didn't even have to use his scanners to identify them; one sported a long, grey trench coat and had his hands clasped tightly behind his back, leaning forward in an intimidating fashion and speaking in a distinguishable, pretentious tone he would recognise anywhere, the other was decked out in full SWAT uniform, a firearm tucked in his thigh holster, another intimidation tactic. Markus wasn't fond of smack-talking people, and pardon his french, but the both of them were certified pricks. 

"Agent Perkins and Captain Allen," Markus greeted, tacking a counterfeit smile on his face. The two in question glanced over their shoulders at him in brief acknowledgement, "To what do I owe the pleasure?" He walked around to face them head on, Josh and North following suit whilst Simon breathed a sigh of relief. 

Perkins was humoured by his polite demeanour, a smug smirk hinting at the corners of his lips, "Markus, I'm afraid the pleasure is all ours." He mocked with the same feigned courtesy. Markus' eye twitched. 

"Considering you are intruding on our property, I do have a hard time believing that." He tried not to let his annoyance slip into his tone, but judging by how Perkins's smirk widened, he failed miserably. 

"Like your..." Richard's voice drowned out, he glanced away for a second as he curled his lip into a sneer, " _People._ " He spat the word out like it was poisonous, "Intruded on Grand Central Park and destroyed it?" 

"And nearly killed my men?" Allen inputted, mimicking the same hostility as Perkins. 

Markus clearly struggled for a response, his quiet friends were no help either. It took a second longer than it should've for words to form, "I know, they--"

"You are going to try and excuse this?" Perkins outright laughed at him, a sense of impatience filled Markus, "Oh, this will be good. Do go on." 

"I am not excusing anything," Markus punctuated lowly. "Their actions are inexcusable, and we will be held accountable for any damage caused," Perkins looked disappointed by his maturity in the matter, "However, I do not appreciate you barging your way in here and harassing one of my co-leaders," He made a waving gesture with his hand to Simon for clarification, "Instead of approaching me calmly." 

"Calmly?" Captain Allen parroted with incredulity, "Those fucking androids destroyed an entire park! They vandalised stores and burned my men! Do you have any idea how many properties were demolished because of them?" 

"We do," Josh pacified, "And we will--"

"I don't think you do." Perkins interrupted, fixing Josh with a dark glare, "Even if we, by some fucking _chance,_ did not press charges and hold you accountable in the court of law, _which we will_ _,_ the cost of reparations would fuck you over anyway." Markus paled, "It will be a shit ton of money, we're talking _millions_ here, to repair not only the park, but the properties and vehicles damaged in the process." His smirk was back again, "Money you can't give." 

The leaders said nothing, so Perkins continued with growing arrogance, "You may have rights now, but we both know you don't have that type of funding." 

North was starting to get fed up, "We are not at fault for the actions of our people, the entire point of deviancy is free will! We try to lead them on the right path, but at the end of the day, they can do whatever the fuck they want!" 

Richard Perkins laughed, "Good job contradicting yourself, honey." 

North seethed and took a step forward, which only served in making Perkins laugh harder. Markus' arm shot out in front of her to block her inevitable assault on the two humans, giving her a warning look. She reluctantly stepped back again. "Alright then, wise guy; when a human commits a murder, is the entire fucking race held accountable for actions that weren't their own?" 

Perkins's smile was gone in a flash. North was proud she wiped the smirk right off that bastard's face. He scrambled to save face, "While that might be true for _humans_ , you four are responsible for the actions of your people, how do we know you didn't orchestrate the entire attack and have those androids carry it out?" 

As Markus opened his mouth to counter the allegation, the entrance to Jericho opened once more and revealed Connor, who, despite having thirium on his shirt, looked as calm and composed as ever. Markus's eyes were glued to that spot of blue, and Connor's quickly found the stain on his temple. Their eyes met, then Connor turned his attention back towards the two humans, who both looked absolutely _delighted_ to see him. "Perkins, Allen." Connor said flatly. 

"Not surprised you'd have something to do with this," Captain Allen scoffed. 

Connor stood next to North. He had the confidence to offer a wry smile, "On the contrary, Captain, whilst I am aware of the events at Grand Central Park, I myself was not involved in them." 

"Like hell I'd believe that. 'Cause you haven't been involved with killing my men in the past, right?" A collective silence fell upon the leaders. Markus calculated a steady increase in Connor's already high stress levels. Allen's comment was the wrong thing to say to an already worked up android, whose gaze sharpened and he clicked his tongue. That composure he was carrying when he entered was dissipating.

"With all due respect, Agent, Captain," Markus' words were polite, his tone was not, "Do not come here and disrespect my advisers. I have already stated we will take responsibility for what happened," His gaze was trained on North's, "If there is anything else you would like to say, please do so now, otherwise I ask you leave."

"Is it really disrespect if it is the truth?" Perkins offered innocently. 

Connor felt the dam inside him holding back that flowing anger give way, and though his body language remained fixed and rigid, there was a new tilt to his words, "Should we talk about how many of _my_ people were killed by your men?" He took pleasure in the shocked expression that graced Allen's face, not so much the one that graced Markus', "While during a peaceful protest, you gunned down _thousands_ of androids?" Connor took a step closer to them, the others made no attempt to stop him, "How my people had to endure years of abuse and slavery, only to be _slaughtered_ as soon as they asked for freedom and respect? Every human we've killed was in self-defence."

Nobody dared to speak, not even the two humans who had been so cocky mere moments ago. Connor went on unrelentingly, "We could go on for hours about the past and dig up personal vendettas, but it's not relevant to the topic at hand." Whilst the topic had changed, his tone and demeanour had not, "Regarding the events at Grand Circus Park, they are critical to an on-going criminal investigation and I demand you cease all repercussions towards androids until it is solved."

Perkins squinted, "You demand." He huffed, "What criminal investigation?" 

Connor smiled condescendingly, "You know I am not permitted to disclose any information about the case, Agent."

Captain Allen finally snapped, "You fuckin--" He took a second to breathe, returning just a fraction calmer, "Your 'people' just destroyed an entire park, this has consequences for National Security. We have every right to the information about it." 

"Take it up with Captain Fowler." Connor shrugged like he wasn't bothered, "Now, gentlemen, I think we're done here. You are intruding on private property and as an upholder of the law, I am legally obligated to remove you from the premises." He invaded Perkins's personal space, who was now flustered, "If I see you here again, I want to see a _fucking_ _warrant,_ am I clear?" 

"Don't be so confident," Perkins sneered, "You can't hide behind your 'investigation' bullshit. Those androids intruded and destroyed Detroit property first, that shit won't fly." He turned on his heel, gesturing for Allen to follow, "Expect a call from Madam President herself very soon." The leaders hesitated, Connor didn't.

"You watch your step, Connor." Captain Allen mumbled as he turned.

That anger flowed a little more.

"Take your own advice, Captain." Allen paused in his footing, "Wouldn't want any more of your men to get hurt." 

Markus' eyes widened at the undisguised threat, "Connor--" He warned quietly.

"Did you just fucking threaten me?" 

Josh covered his eyes with his hand and shook his head. 

Connor only crowded him towards the door, "Have a nice day, Captain." 

The two humans left begrudgingly, not before Captain Allen attempted to shoulder check Connor on the way out, who reacted faster and dodged him. Through the glass doors, Connor watched Perkins and Allen get into their respective vehicles and drive away from Jericho, making sure they didn't linger and try to cause any more trouble. Once they were out of sight, Connor turned around to find four pairs of eyes on him and he suddenly felt very, very small, like he was under a microscope.

Josh was staring at him with conflicting emotions in his eyes. He looked disappointed at how Connor had handled the situation, but grateful that he had at least got the two out of Jericho. Simon looked relieved Perkins and Allen weren't harassing him anymore, maybe even a little bit awestruck at Connor's ability to gain the upper hand in the argument despite it being a two-on-one against two of Detroit's notorious assholes. North was smirking and gave him a not-so-subtle wink, clearly approving of Connor's passive-aggressiveness. It wasn't surprising that she appreciated a more assertive and belligerent approach to a problem.

But the way Markus was looking at him was different to how he'd ever looked at Connor before. There was disapproval swirling deep in those heterochromatic irises, accompanied with an unsure curiosity and nervousness that seemed almost shy to show itself. What was worse than all these stares, was that nobody had said anything since the Agent and the Captain had left, and Connor wanted nothing more than for one of them to say something, anything, even if it was a scolding. 

After what seemed like forever, Markus spoke back up, he sounded tired and his words were forced, "Josh, North, Simon--continue with the defensive measures." 

"Shouldn't we hold a meeting about what just happened?" Josh protested.

"Sounds like we'll be having one with Madam President very soon," Markus sighed.

"We should at least prepare for it then," He insisted. 

Markus' gaze stayed glued to Connor, "Tomorrow, Josh. We need to protect this place first. Right now, I have something else to take care of." 

Josh followed his gaze, realising what Markus meant. He nodded, "Okay. Tomorrow at 10am. Your office." 

Markus didn't confirm nor deny, he walked away from the four. Josh, North and Simon went off together, whilst Connor found himself dragging his feet after Markus, who was already in the elevator and waiting for him. They stood in uncomfortable silence as Markus pressed the designated floor key. Connor realised this wasn't the floor to Markus' office, and they'd already passed the infirmary, so where was he taking him? He spared a glance towards him, one that Markus didn't meet. Connor bounded on the balls of his feet, feeling anxiety bubbling under the surface. Markus, noticing this, finally met his eyes, that disappointment was less evident now, but Connor couldn't help but feel nervous. He didn't want Markus to be disappointed with him, he knew he'd said a few things he shouldn't have and lost his composure, he just hoped Markus wouldn't berate him for it. Not to mention his breakdown earlier with Hank--that disappointment would only increase ten-fold he was sure.

They reached the desired floor, one Connor wasn't familiar with. It still had the same bright hallways as every floor did, but there were only four rooms on this floor, large gaps separating each one. Markus walked down to the farthest one and placed his hand against the scanner, the door sliding open to reveal a study of some sorts, with a darker colour scheme and complexion compared to the starkness of the rest of the tower. Connor was awed upon entering, it looked like a private living space for any prior Cyberlife workers. The room was a light tan with wood floorboards, a large desk perched on the right side of the room accompanied with bookshelves and a cushioned chair. There was a rather expensive and technical looking computer perched on the desk, with android articles on the screen. At the top of the room was a portable bed, framed by drawers, though Connor doubted Markus ever used the bed, being an android. Maybe he did though, for relaxation purposes. He spotted a few easels on the left, some blank and others sporting a myriad of bright colours, the creations varied from being distinguishable and abstract. In the bottom right corner, there was a creme sofa shaped in a ninety-degree angle, slotting in perfectly. All in all, it was beautiful, and very Markus, now that he thought about it.

Still, Connor didn't feel it was his place to break the uncomfortable silence they now resided in, even if it was only to compliment the living space. Markus took quick strides towards the bed, opening up one of the drawers and pulling something out of it. A moment later, Connor caught a grey sweater being thrown at him, glancing up at Markus with confusion. 

"I'm starting to think you keep staining your shirts to steal mine," Markus joked. Connor could tell it was forced and half-assed, but the fact that Markus was trying to lower the tension between them dropped his stress by ten percent. Markus must've noticed, because his expression softened.

"I'm sorry, I forgot to return the other one. I will get it back to you tomorrow," Technically, androids had near-perfect memories, he just didn't know himself whether leaving it at home was intentional. He slipped the sweater over the top of his stained shirt. He wasn't sure if Markus gave him it because he didn't like seeing Connor stained in thirium or because he was just being nice. Either way, the thought was appreciated. 

Markus opened up another drawer and pulled out Connor's clothes from the interrogation room incident, now spotless instead of blue. He set them down on the desk, turning to Connor with a shrug, "Keep it. I have more sweaters, evidently." _'You looked nice in it'_ lingered on his tongue. 

Connor felt something new come alive inside his chest, "Are you sure? I can't just steal your clothes." 

"It's not stealing. Think of it as a gift." 

"...Thank you." 

Markus nodded. He then made his way over and sat on the sofa, gesturing for Connor to do the same. They sat nearly opposite each other, Connor was quick to relax and ease himself into the softness, repeating Hank's words in his head about 'not being so goddamn formal all the time'. Markus however sat leaning forward towards him, elbows resting on his knees, chin on his palm. From the crease in his forehead to the furrow in his brow, Connor assumed this was the scolding he was going to get. Markus had been kind enough to lower the tension just to ramp it back up again. He braced himself for the worst.

Then, "Why does it feel like every time I see you you're bleeding." 

Connor was not expecting a soft, hurt tone to reach his ears, wasn't expecting Markus to be looking at him with such sadness and concern. He also wasn't expecting to suddenly feel bad at making the leader worry so much, he didn't think he'd be this affected by his tendency to get himself hurt. Hank was similar in that aspect, but in their field of work it was expected and not to be dwelled on as long as everyone came out alive. Connor was alive and kicking it, so he was a little perplexed as to why Markus sounded so saddened by it.

Instead of voicing his thoughts, he attempted to lighten the mood with a joke, "I admit, I do feel like the infirmary is becoming a second home of some sorts." 

That got him a little smile, but it wasn't genuine, almost like Markus was humoured by his attempt to dodge the question. Markus wasn't oblivious and he wasn't dropping the subject. "I don't like seeing you do this to yourself." 

Connor glanced away sheepishly, "It's not intentional. I wasn't hurt, I was just...sick again." 

Markus frowned, "May I ask why?" 

Connor hesitated. Markus was going to be disappointed in him. He was going to scold him for breaking down on the job when he already had a million other things to worry about, adding Perkins and Captain Allen to that list as well. But...those thoughts were irrational. Markus hadn't been disappointed in him for being emotional before, he hadn't treated him any differently or ostracised him. He had listened and offered help and companionship if he needed it. That little voice was still in the back of his head though; what if telling Markus about it did force him to treat him differently? What if he was more cautious and careful instead of joking and friendly? Connor didn't want to sacrifice that.

"Connor?" Markus prompted with the same care and softness. Connor looked at him deeply. No, Connor didn't want to lose his friendship with Markus, but he would not lie to him either. A lightness shone through his irises, a light that was telling Connor to trust his friend, knowing that Markus will trust him too. 

He took the plunge, "I went to the location with Hank, and we weren't fast enough." Connor admitted quietly, his gaze fixed on plain dress shoes, "We found six bodies, Markus." He paused and shook his head in almost disbelief, "Above them...It wrote _'Better luck next time',_ and I just...lost it." Connor pulled his pistol from the back of his belt. It was faulty now due to the components collapsing within themselves when Connor threw it at the wall, he showed it to Markus, "I started throwing things, anything I could get my hands on. I ended up damaging my firearm." 

Markus slowly reached out and took the weapon from his grasp, setting it down next to him on the sofa, far out of Connor's reach, "Was Hank with you when this happened?" 

Embarrassment crept up inside, "Yes. He helped me calm down afterwards," He intentionally left out the restraining, not wanting to worry Markus any further, "But it didn't last." 

"What do you mean?"

"I saw Detective Reed and I felt angry again. Then you called me, so I forgot about him and Hank drove me here as fast as he could. About that, I'm sorry I wasn't there to help at Grand Circus Park." Connor frowned.

"It's not your fault. I assume because you didn't calm down from seeing Gavin you took it out on Captain Allen and Agent Perkins?"

Connor met his eyes guiltily. He didn't confirm, but Markus knew he was right. "Connor, look," He sighed, "I really appreciate you getting rid of them for us, and possibly minimising the extent of the repercussions we will inevitably face, courtesy of Perkins," Markus rolled his eyes, "That doesn't mean you can threaten people like that. I get you and Captain Allen have history, that much is clear, but he could come back and use that against us. Perkins is already suspicious of the attack being orchestrated." 

The words weighed heavily on Connor's mind. For every action there's a reaction. He shifted in his seat, "If that happens, I will take full responsibility." 

Markus shook his head, "Connor, that's not what I'm saying." He looked upset again, he really hated this lack of self-preservation, "I'm not asking you to take the fall for us, I'm just asking you to be careful with your words _and_ actions. If your emotions get too much, take a step back from it all and breathe before saying anything. Otherwise you'll end up saying things you'll regret." Connor's face fell, "I'm not angry, I'm not disappointed. I'm just worried, Connor--" Markus was interrupted by static overflowing his audio processors, and his hand flew up to his temple, clutching it with a wince. He initiated his self-repair protocol.

Connor was instantly on the case, inching closer, "Markus, what happened to your head?"

Markus moved to sit back against the cushion, meekly glancing at Connor, "When I was defending Grand Circus Park, I was hit with a baton. That's why our connection severed when I asked you to come help." Something flared in Connor's eyes and Markus reached out to brush his hand, "But we're not going to do anything rash about it, okay? I mean, North already beat the guy half to death." 

"I would've done the same." He said with conviction. 

Markus stared at him. "Josh and I would've scolded you all the same." 

Connor's eyebrows raised, "You think he would've stopped at the first hit?"

Markus hesitated. "North said the exact same thing." 

"She's right." Connor stated like it was the easiest fact, "She saved you." 

Markus was afraid to ask his next question, fearing he already knew the answer, "...How do you know so much about what happened?"

"You don't know?" Connor asked, surprised. Markus shook his head slowly, "Markus, it's all over the news. I heard about it on the radio station when Hank was driving." 

Markus was up in seconds, striding over to the computer and searching for all Detroit news websites. Connor didn't know why he didn't just search his databases like he did, but maybe Markus liked being old-school and typing instead, Hank was like that. Connor entertained him though, coming up to peer over the back of his chair as Markus sagged in it at the sight of nearly every anchor covering the story. Too much publicity was never a good thing for androids, and the topic of the reports was detrimental to the public opinion of androids. A little notification on his HUD indicated that their supportive public opinion was shifting down. "Why would our people do this?" Markus mumbled into his hands. 

"Because they aren't the ones doing it." Connor commented, immediately capturing his attention. 

"The virus is." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PERKINS, YOU FACKIN COCKSUCKER 
> 
> YOU SHOULD'VE LISTENED TO ME, CAPTAIN
> 
> Sorry, couldn't resist.
> 
> So like Markus totally keeps giving Connor his clothes cause he looks cute in them and you can fight me on this if you want but tis cannon in this fic. I love writing them both together so much. Gotta ruin their moments with cliffhangers though. 
> 
> Whew, lots of conflict in this chapter--fitting title. Conflict between androids vs humans, conflict between North vs Josh, conflict between Jericho vs Captain Allen + Perkins, conflict between Connor vs Captain Allen + Perkins, slight conflict between my boys Connor and Markus :(((( 
> 
> Conflict between me staying up at 2am to finish this and having to get up at 6am...the list goes on. :D It was worth it though, really enjoyed writing this one. <3 Probs my favourite so far. I also cut down on using pronouns and other grammatical stuff to test how this one flows in comparison to the others. Feedback?


	10. Breaking

Markus stood in front of his easel, perched upon it his latest creation, but his hand made no effort to drag the paintbrush along the canvas, it remained in front of him, clenching the paintbrush tightly in his fist. It was just him in the room now, and he felt safe enough to allow his body to express this anguish that was building up inside him, anguish that would overwhelm him if he didn't have some sort of outlet every now and then. He had turned to painting in an attempt to ease these emotions, yet it had been twenty minutes since Connor had left and he hadn't made a single marking on his work. 

It was too difficult to concentrate. His mind raced with all the information Connor had supplied him before he left, his processors working slower than ever as they tried to piece together everything. Connor had informed him of his recent findings and inferences pertaining to the apartment complex, but finding concrete evidence seemed to still be a struggle, so Markus was reduced to deciphering the notes Connor had pieced together. He'd also told him about some new theories he had created. 

Connor had elaborated on the virus causing the attack in Grand Circus Park, their people had been placid since their liberation, there didn't seem to be any motive for them to up and decide one day to raid a well renowned park in Detroit. Some deviants did prove to be more difficult and bloodthirsty than others, but Markus doubted any of them would cause catastrophic damage like this. Connor also managed to analyse some of the bodies from recordings of the attack that had been broadcast from local news stations and concluded that they were indeed the missing androids. Fifty had been reported missing initially, forty now dead and Connor had discovered six at the apartment complex, which meant only a few were still undiscovered. It was bittersweet, they had found the majority of those missing, but their condition had been unfavourable. However, there also didn't seem to be a motive to essentially send the infected androids to their deaths in Grand Circus Park, so Connor was even more confused than before. 

Markus had trouble weaving his way through the evidence of the attack. Now that he finally had time to himself, the reality of losing forty innocent people was weighing down on him. He had been powerless to prevent the attack and powerless to stop their deaths. His mind tormented him with 'what if's'. What if Jericho had been better fortified? What if he'd kept a closer eye on who was entering and leaving their establishment? Markus wasn't the one who administered the virus and killed those androids, but guilt still found its way to him, clinging to him and tightening its hold, trapping him in its grasp. 

He set the paintbrush down with a shallow sigh, there didn't seem to have been any point in picking it up at all. His stress levels were on the rise and his HUD was telling him to seek assistance before he reached critical levels. Markus cast a glance towards the door. He suddenly regretted sending Connor back home to take care of himself when all he wanted now was for him to come back and talk to him again, even if it was about the recent horrific crimes. It had now been twenty five minutes since Connor had left. Twenty five minutes and he already missed him. 

Markus wasn't sure why that sense of longing settled inside him, a feeling that hugged him tight and refused to let go. It filled his being with a warmth that couldn't be satisfied, a buzz that craved the presence of the other. It was confusing. Markus couldn't deny that over the course of the past few days, the two of them had gotten closer, with them both relying on each other for comfort, but to become this attached in such a short space of time was something Markus couldn't wrap his head around. He could blame it on his ever-growing concern for Connor, with his mental state pulling apart at the seams and a lack of self-preservation that would also put his physical state in danger, though that definition didn't quite describe why he was feeling this way. This was more than concern. 

It was hard to think of Connor and not be concerned though. He had isolated himself from Jericho for a substantial amount of time, and when he began meeting with Markus again, on nearly every occasion he was nursing some sort of injury, whether it was mental or physical. In such a short time he had witnessed so much death and suffering Markus was surprised that every morning he was back on the field as if it didn't bother him. But Markus knew it always did. Connor was someone who would gladly overwork themselves to the bone if it meant solving a case and catching a culprit and that worried Markus, knowing that he was sacrificing his health in return for a case being filed away in a drawer. Maybe Connor was programmed that way, maybe his job really meant that much to him, but with how he had been acting recently, Markus could see it slowly taking a toll on him. 

Underneath that concern laid admiration and companionship. Connor understood Markus like nobody else it seemed; he wasn't afraid to criticise him or offer support whenever Markus needed it, even when Markus himself wasn't even aware he needed it. Connor could see right through that strong facade Markus had built up, just how Markus could see right through his--maybe that was why they had started turning to each other for comfort, because they saw part of themselves in the other person. That feeling of longing swelled and a smile ghosted his lips. Then it fell, and Markus was left more confused than ever. 

His anxiety rose and he found himself pacing around the large room, his mind distancing itself from reality. His head pounded with thoughts. Too many thoughts. Connor wasn't the only thing on his mind, North had seeped her way in their too, feeding that lingering shadow of guilt. She had saved his life only mere hours ago, and he had reacted by berating her for it instead of thanking her. It wasn't like this was the first time North had saved him either, she had thrown herself in front of danger for him numerous times, always had his back no matter what, and each time Markus had reacted in an ungrateful way. Connor's approval of her actions had opened his eyes. That soldier wasn't going to stop at the first hit. That soldier was going to kill him, and North had volunteered herself up on a silver platter to take that death if she couldn't overpower him. 

Everything felt like it was piling up on top of him; Connor, North, Grand Circus Park, the virus, Perkins, Allen, Madame President...Markus sat down on the corner of his bed, fingertips gently massaging his temples, mindful of the damaged side, and began the process of slowing his systems down with the intention of going into stasis. 

It only lasted five minutes before he was pacing again. 

Guilt began to fade from him, in its place came irritation; he hated feeling this useless. It was like the perpetrator was dangling him from a string, toying with him, playing with his people's lives, all the while a smug smile on their face, knowing that Markus couldn't stop him. What was worse, was that Markus knew that this was only the beginning. The suicides, the massacre at Grand Circus Park--the events were only going to get worse from here on out. Markus promised he would try his hardest to prevent the string of events that were inevitably going to unravel, that was something easier said than done however. He brought up Connor's file again, distracting himself from that train of thought, and looked for anything that stuck out. He ended up lingering on the suicide within Jericho, the WJ700, and he turned pensive. Why had that android came to Jericho just to kill themselves? Connor had mentioned in their meeting that preventing the android from completing their new objective would cause them to self-destruct, yet it looked like someone had just flicked a switch inside his head. His mission could've been to shoot Connor--the thought pained Markus--as he did point the gun at him, but the decision to turn the gun on themselves was instantaneous. Afterwards, Markus entered a catatonic state from the shock and Connor turned violent towards himself. Neither events were planned, though it undoubtedly slowed down their progress. The realisation hit him like a slap to the face. Was it really possible that whoever was doing this was using the suicides as a ploy? A way to throw them off guard and divert attention away from the real extent of the virus? 

That actually made sense. Nobody had been aware of the attack on Grand Circus Park because they were all looking out for abnormal or self-destructive behaviour, those infected androids had struck because nobody expected they would. Markus added those thoughts and ideas to the file and then sent it back to Connor, hoping his new revelations could act as a lead for further investigation into the virus. That uncomfortable pulsing sensation from earlier resurfaced and came back twice as hard, his head feeling like it was compressing in on itself. He monitored his self-repair protocol and found it was having difficulty repairing the damage. If he couldn't repair it by himself, he'd have to visit the infirmary to get it fixed, if it even could be. He created an objective list for himself, consisting of getting a check-up, or rather finishing the one that got oh-so rudely interrupted, monitoring the progress Simon, North and Josh had made on the defensive measures and finally confronting North about what happened. Markus wouldn't lie, he was scared, he didn't want dig himself any deeper of a hole with the woman than he already had. 

It didn't take long to reach the infirmary. It was upsetting how packed it was; most of them weren't physically injured but had clearly suffered some extent of trauma and were seeking out professional help. Nurses and patients alike rushed past him. He manoeuvred his way to the front desk and explained his condition to the woman behind it. She immediately appointed a nurse to him and ushered him away to a room--he wasn't sure if it was due to his status or the extent of his injury, he prayed it didn't appear like he was abusing the system. Markus ended up arriving a few minutes earlier before his assigned nurse did as they were just finishing up with another patient. A couple of minutes later, an all too familiar AP700 entered the room, eyes glued to a tablet. He didn't look up to assess Markus as he shut the door with his foot and strode closer to him. 

"Hello, my name is Alex, I've be--" Alex finally looked at Markus and his expression fell flat, "Markus, again, _really?"_

Markus breathed a sheepish laugh at the lack of professionalism, glancing anywhere but those disapproving eyes, "Sorry, Alex." 

Alex sighed, "You'll just be here again tomorrow." He set the tablet down and stood in front of him, "What's the problem this time?" 

"Earlier today, I..." His voice shrunk, "I was attacked at Grand Circus Park." Alex's expression morphed into one of understanding, of course he'd heard of the attack, everybody had, it was probably why the infirmary was so crowded, "A soldier hit me with a baton, now my cognitive processes are malfunctioning and I cannot seem to self-repair them." He reached his fingers up to gesture towards the dented plating on his temple.

"I know it's not really my place to say anything, but I'm sorry that happened." Alex mumbled. He then placed two deactivated fingertips to Markus' temple, running a quick diagnostic of his systems, "The reason you can't self-repair is because your systems haven't fully recovered from catatonia. As you've been engaging in some pretty strenuous situations since then and therefore neglecting your physical condition, your systems aren't functioning at the optimal rate. We told you leaving as soon as we woke you up wasn't recommended." 

"Connor needed my help," Markus protested weakly.

"And that's why we have an infirmary." Alex countered, adopting a soft tone to avoid sounding like he was accusing or berating Markus, "If Connor requires assistance, we're here to help him. You're not invincible Markus, and neither is he, neglecting your health to help him isn't helping either of you. Catatonia is not a joke." Alex paused, "And neither are traumatic experiences and vomiting thirium. You both can't keep brushing it off as if it doesn't matter." 

"I'm not brushing it off--"

"You are, Markus," Alex interrupted, crossing his arms over his chest, "And so is he. It's evident from how often you two have been frequenting here recently. You should've been monitored by us for at least three days after recovering from your catatonia, that we had to manually _reboot_ you to reawaken you from might I add, and Connor should've been critically analysed after expelling thirium." 

Markus squinted, "I thought you said that it can be a response to distressing situations, and if it occurs on the off-chance, it isn't serious?" 

"I did," Alex confirmed, "I also said it isn't a common response. Yes, it's possible and if it is a one-off then you are correct, it typically isn't something to be concerned about. However, we deal with a lot of traumatised androids here and it's rare that any of them tell us they experienced vomiting because it's an abnormal reaction." Normally Alex wouldn't disclose this much information to a patient, but because it was their leader, who he had already bent the rules for, he felt giving this information was justified, "Due to the small number of cases we've had of this phenomenon, some aspects are still unclear, but we've found that expelling thirium can trigger a relaxed feeling because you're purging something, like getting rid of something negative, for example. This is how it can turn into self-harm. Now, just from briefly observing Connor, I can tell he is experiencing some degree of emotional stress." 

Fear settled in his abdomen, "...You are correct." 

"And if the recent events are anything to go by, I'd bet he's expelled more thirium since then." 

"He has." 

"This is how it becomes a problem," Alex explained, walking away for a moment to turn on a monitor close by, "Emotions are new to all deviants here, and if they find something that makes them feel good, they'll chase that feeling. I fear if Connor keeps being exposed to traumatic situations that cause him to expel thirium, he will become too acquainted with that euphoric feeling and turn to purging to cope." 

"I would never let that happen." Markus deadpanned. 

Alex shook his head, "It's not that easy, Markus."

Markus deflated, "I know. But Connor's current situation is very...specific." 

"I gathered that at our last appointment." Alex frowned, "I didn't mean to scare him like that, I wasn't even aware my presence would cause that extent of discomfort." He trailed off before quickly righting himself, "I understand you've been helping Connor, though at the same time you're causing detriment to your own mental state by taking on such a big responsibility. I know it may not be your intention, but teaching Connor to only rely on you for help is unhealthy. You're shouldering his burdens as well as your own and I can see you're not doing so great either." 

He huffed a humourless laugh, "Is it that obvious?" 

"With everything going on, it's understandable. That's why you need to take care of yourself now more than ever, it's easy to be overwhelmed in trying times such as these. As for Connor, I think it would be beneficial for him to at least be checked over, whether it's by me or another one of the nurses, without you dragging him away this time." Alex meant it as a joke, but Markus still frowned.

"It wasn't my intention to prevent him from getting help." 

"I know it wasn't, you care about him too much to do that," Alex smiled, "Just know that it never hurts to get a professional opinion on the matter. We're here to help him as well Markus, it's great that you're looking out for him as a friend and offering a shoulder, but he should know that we're here too." Markus nodded and Alex retrieved a cable, "I'll see if I can repair the damage the internal damage to your temple, then we'll replace the plating." He connected the cable into the port at the back of Markus' neck and all his functions and coding appeared on the monitor screen. Markus went into temporary stasis whilst Alex got to work. 

Fifteen minutes later, the procedure was done. Thankfully, it wasn't a difficult task and Markus was instructed to perform a diagnostic to confirm everything was fixed. The report came back positive with no errors listed. Alex then removed the small damaged plating and secured a new one in its place, the mocha skin covering over it again, making it appear like the attack never even happened. 

"I'm not going to keep you under supervision because I trust that our conversation here has taught you a few things," Alex looked at him knowingly, "But I ask that you take it easy for the next couple of days, for your body's sake. As much as I love helping people, it's not nice to see the same faces here all the time." 

"I can imagine. Thank you Alex, I'm grateful for what you do for our people." 

Alex clicked his tongue, ignoring the compliment, "I think the words you were looking for were: _Yes, Alex, I will take it easy for the next couple of days and not engage with any dangerous activities._ " 

Markus sighed, "I want to promise that, I really do. Like you said though, with everything going on..." 

"At least whilst you're in Jericho, then. Try not to cause any more damage, your body still needs to recuperate." Alex compromised. 

"I can do that."

"Talk to Connor as well. We'll see if we can arrange something." He paused, "I know it is not your place to say, but I need to ask or future reference, how many times has Connor expelled his thirium?" Markus seemed to hesitate, "This information will be kept confidential, Markus, no matter what. I need to know how severe his condition is right now." 

"Twice this week." 

"These are the first two instances, correct?" Markus nodded, "Okay. Thank you, you can go now. Please, take care of yourself." 

Despite being a place of healing, Markus left the infirmary feeling worse than he had when he arrived. 

From what Alex had told him, Connor's condition was only going to worsen if left medically unattended, and even so, there was no guarantee he would get better because the situations he was being subjected to due to the virus were so abhorrent it would be like taking one step forward and another ten back. Markus honestly thought he had been helping Connor by talking to and spending time with him, and there was no doubt that he had in some aspects, but the thought of him delaying Connor's recovery disgusted him. Alex was right however, he did have to allow Connor to get professional help, and he also needed to learn to take care of himself instead of piling up everybody else's problems on top of his own. Markus would say he was coping well with it, in reality he'd be lying through his teeth. How hypocritical for him to criticise Connor for having a lack of self-preservation when it seemed he too suffered from a lack of one. They both had improvements to make. 

On his way out, he nearly collided with another body. He recovered quickly from the unexpected contact, perks of being an RK prototype, whilst the other, a rather surprised looking Simon, stumbled a little. Before he could apologise, Simon had already beat him to the punch. 

"You know if you'd responded to my message it would've made finding you a whole lot easier," Simon said with a light tone. 

"Sorry, I wasn't able to. What was it you needed, Simon?" 

"Josh and I have finished collecting vocal samples and have altered the elevators to now only accept verbal commands. Is there anything else you need us to do?" 

"Assign them to respective rooms as well." He said dismissively.

Simon caught on to this, "Is everything alright, Markus?" 

Markus sighed, "I don't know, Simon. There's just a lot going on right now." 

"You're telling me," Simon sighed sadly, "Our people are mourning, they're scared and lost and I don't know what to tell them to make it better. I myself don't even think things are going to get better." He looked up at Markus, "It's only going to get worse, isn't it." 

He gripped Simon's shoulder, "I wish I could tell you differently but..yes. We need to be as prepared as we can be. In our meeting tomorrow we'll discuss further precautionary measures, for now we just need to help around as much as we can. In an hour, I'll gather our people together to make a statement about our future." 

Simon nodded, "I hope Connor can find something to help us." 

"...Me too." Markus then turned to leave, "I'm going to find North." 

"She was in the nursery last time I saw her." Simon called out helpfully as he left. 

_ **Markus:** _ **_[Can we meet?]_**

**_North:_ ** **_[What for.]_ **

**_Markus: [Please. I need to talk to you.]_ **

She took longer to reply.

**_North: [Nursery. Five minutes.]_ **

Approximately five minutes and not even a second later, Markus was at the infirmary, greeted by bright colours and YK500's playing happily, oblivious to the horrors of the outside world. Seeing them enjoying themselves, like all androids should be, almost made Markus forget that his people were dying right on their doorstep. Among the children was North, supervising and engaging with them actively, a smile playing upon her lips. Markus simply watched her for a moment as she chased the children, pretending to be a scary monster as they ran away in excitement. Her smile was infectious, and it spread to Markus within seconds. Upon sensing someone was watching her, she met Markus' gaze and called out to the children she was taking a time out. A collective _'aww!'_ filled the room and North turned back to reassure she would come back and play, which was rewarded with cheers and hollers. For now, another android took her place and the two leaders excused themselves. 

Once alone, North faced Markus with her hands on her hips, jaw clenched and eyes glued to the marbled floor, "What did you need?"

Markus hesitated due to her closed off and irritated demeanour, "I came here to apologise." 

She looked up.

Markus continued when she made no effort to say anything, "You saved my life today. North, you've always had my back and never once hesitated to protect me. I took that for granted and I'm sorry I didn't realise it before. Thank you for what you did." 

Her brown eyes warmed from the confession and her arms dropped from her stiff position. She said with a soft tone, "Why the change in heart all of a sudden?" 

"I spoke to Connor about what happened, and he made me realise that he wasn't going to stop after the first hit--like you said. He was going to kill me, and you put your own life in danger to save mine, and all I did was give you shit for it. It wasn't right. I should've fought back, I shouldn't have put you in danger just so you could protect me." He shook his head ashamedly. He was the one avoiding eye contact now.

North lightly touched his bicep, "Hey, it's okay. What happened, happened, it's over now, no use in beating yourself up over it." She smiled knowingly, "Of course Connor would be the one to make you see reason though." 

Markus frowned, perplexed. "What do you mean?"

She laughed under her breath, "Nothing, just that he's obviously very logical and persuasive." She grinned and glanced off to the side, "And pretty hot when he gets rid of asshole agents." 

Markus rolled his eyes, "North, we shouldn't be condoning threats against authority." 

"Yeah, but it's Connor, so you let him off the hook for it." 

Markus hated how true that statement was. 

He made a pitiful attempt to save face, "No, I'm still holding him accountable for it."

That small laugh turned into a loud guffaw, "Markus, that's bullshit and you know it." She gave him a sly wink, "It's okay, we all have a soft spot for him. Well, except Josh, he was pissed at what he did, but he was also pissed at me for saving your life, so what does he know." 

"I'll tell him to lay off." 

"Who? For me or Connor?" North went on with her relentless teasing. Markus was still confused as to what she was teasing him about. 

"Uh, you? As far as I'm concerned he hasn't bothered Connor." 

North's grin stayed plastered to her face because of his confused tone, "It's alright, Markus. I can kick Josh's ass whenever I want." She shushed him before he could go all pacifist on her, "Thank you for the apology." She said genuinely. 

"We'll be making a statement to our people in about an hour, so be at the Jericho tree." She nodded and disappeared back in the nursery, not before she sent one last smile Markus' way, which took a load off his shoulders. He'd always be able to count on North. 

As Markus walked away, North's joking comments ran laps around his mind. What in rA9 was she talking about?

It took ten minutes for him to realise what she was getting at, and when he did, it felt like he was opening his eyes for the first time. 

That insatiable feeling in his chest resurfaced and glowed brighter than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk how I feel about this chapter, not really plot heavy, just developing some relationships, might be a bit on the boring side. But careful, Markus, one might think you're actually catching feelings. ;)
> 
> Don't worry, next chapter's gonna be a lot more exciting.
> 
> Also I love Alex as my little irrelevant plot device bless him. I'm not good with OCs whatsoever, I only really dawdle with in-game characters for DBH, but I figured I should throw a few in there every now and then to avoid writing their model numbers or random descriptions all the time. He probably won't become a major character or even get fleshed out, but he's there when I need him to be :D


End file.
